


No Train, Yes Trauma

by NeshaTriumphs



Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Au infinity train, F/M, Gen, Infinity Train AU, Infinity train - Freeform, infinity train fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 171,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27325735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeshaTriumphs/pseuds/NeshaTriumphs
Summary: AU Grace and Simon story. Takes place in the instance that they never got on the train, but crossed paths, became friends, and continued their journeys of trauma in a setting outside of the train. Some believe that without the train, things might have been better. Perhaps, perhaps not. This story is simply a look at a possible No Train experience.
Relationships: Grace Monroe & Simon Laurent, Grace Monroe/Simon Laurent, Simon Laurent & Grace Monroe, Simon Laurent/Grace Monroe
Comments: 19
Kudos: 25





	1. It Became a Thing

**Author's Note:**

> So, on August 20, 2020 I began a little story on Tumblr and called it "If They Didn't Get on the Train." I don't tend to post anything on this site, but I got multiple requests to put this particular story up, and here we are. In real time, the story is actually almost finished and very long. I'm not sure how frequently I'll post the chapters here, but if anyone grows impatient, it can be found on the tumblr blackfemmecharacterdepency. It is tagged "If They Didn't Get on the Train" and as of 11/1/2020, the master post is pinned to the top of the blog.  
> Also, I am not familiar with this site, so tags and stuff might be fucked up until I get used to it. Idk what to tell you. I'm here with this by request. Lol. Enjoy, and remember... Be nice. Because I can be mean too, and I will be.

He was pretty sure that it was fate that brought him here or something very similar, yet scientific. He didn't really believe in fate. If it was real he hated the fact that his life was meant to be this way.

This way being alone, often attacked for being a little different. None of them seem to know nor care that he was only different because he didn't really have anyone to show him there was another way to be. So, he was just the way that felt comfortable. He thought it was fine! It was fine to be the smartest kid in class, even if focusing on things made him irritated, because they weren’t the things he WANTED to focus on. He thought it was fine rambling on about books he’s writing at the age of 10. He thought it was fine, building little figures, not good expensive ones like his dad had, but like... affordable ones that didn’t work as well and made him work hard for the final product. He thought he was fine. They didn't.

Simon wasn't really in the mood to be beat up today so, he ran, and it was the most his body had ever done. The boy pushed it to the limits. He didn't know where he was going, but he was growing tired, saw a door and he went through it. He rushed into what he later realized was a school not his school, but some other school. Some fancy place. He decided not to run into the bathroom they might check there.

He kept running and running. He turned the corner and down a hallway and he heard the door open behind him. He heard their feet coming! They were following and probably would catch up! He rushed into the first next door that he saw, and that's where he met her.

She was on stage and she was dancing. He looked out of the window and saw his bullies run past the door he ducked crouched and scurried towards a seat in, what he now realized, was some type of auditorium. He'd just wait it out. His bullies would tire of searching for him and go. Maybe they'd catch him tomorrow, maybe not. But, he determined that he was not leaving the seat unless they came in...

She was wonderful. a nice distraction from his current predicament. Her limbs were elegant in their fluid movements and she danced with fierce concentration and sharpened skill. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and the skirt she wore flowed as she moved, but showed her perfect legs. Her skin was amazing too. She was... too pretty for words. He was so mesmerized, he didn't watch the door, so he didn't see when his bullies peeked in the window and noticed him slouching in a seat.

They opened the door, trying to sneak in, but, it was 4 of them. Not as stealthy as one dude in a hoodie, so she noticed them, first.

"Hey! You can't be in here!" she fussed and came storming towards the door. "This is a closed rehearsal!" She had a deeper voice than anyone expected, her being a small, though slightly tall little girl and as she made her way towards them, even though they realized that she was even smaller than he was, there was something about her that startled them.

One of them lied, "We're sorry, Little Cutie, just collecting our friend here."

Now, she noticed him. She looked at him, searching the room, looking desperately for an escape, and she knew - these weren't his friends. She may not have had any friends herself, but she had seen them before. On websites and stuff. They didn't look scared of each other. And she KNEW looking scared. She was often scared. Scared of her thoughts when she was alone, scared of the fact that she was always alone... she looked at the speaker and said, "He's with me."

The boys laughed and she went over to the blond boy and gave him a hug, "Play along," she whispered. Like she had to say that. "I’m finishing rehearsal and he’s my friend, coming to support me as I practice a very hard number."

They didn't buy it. There was no way Sci Fi Si could ever even be FRIENDS with a pretty rich girl, much less... But, she looked to be retrieving a cellphone and they didn't know the penalty for being in this school, so, they left.

She walked behind them and locked the door, just in case. "Thanks. You just saved my life." He said. She frowned at him and his smile faded.

"Are those goons gonna wait around until Midnight?"

"No. They'll just harass and/or beat me up tomorrow." He said, then looked at the ground and muttered, "I'd better bring a change of clothes." When he looked back up, she was staring at him with some confusion. "Sometimes it gets messy." Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. She was still just staring at him. He felt like... judging him... he didn't like it.

"How long were you in here?" she asked.

He imitated the music with his mouth, because it was all he could recall of when he sat down. He hadn't checked the time and he didn't know how long he was there or any of the stuff that he saw her do to describe it... She laughed and covered her face with both hands, "Soooo.. you saw some of my worse work. Great."

"That was your worse? It was amazing!"

"What do you know about dance?"

"Nothing but-"

"So, that's what your critique means to me. Nothing." She gave him a fake smile. he looked hurt and she hadn't meant to wound the guy, but... she didn't like for people to see her when she wasn't at her best and this guy HAD. She laughed and touched his arm, "Don't be so dramatic. Technically... it's true. It’s not an insult. You don't know anything about dance, you said so yourself. So, how could you know that I missed steps or didn't nail two moves? I was just being honest... not mean."

He blushed, looked at her hand on his hoodie and too soon, she withdrew it. "Anyway, they're probably gone and I need to get my routine flawless, so.." she unlocked the door and kicked it open, smiling at him.

"Thanks again, ummm...?"

She narrowed her eyes, confused at his weird inflection of voice, but questionably responded, "You're welcome?"

"Simon," He answered the wrong question, but gave her the answer to his anyway. She didn't realize that he was waiting on her name. She didn't know if she should share it. But, he seemed nice enough. He was wearing socks and sandals and they were worn, like he’d been in them for a while, but - he was still waiting.

"Grace Mon..." Usually, she'd say, "Grace Monroe, of the Monroe Square Monroes." But... that would be saying too much in this case.He was a kid, around her age, but he was still a stranger and could’ve had some kind of scheme going with an adult waiting nearby..

"Goodnight Gracemon," he said, genuinely and walked out. She watched him go down the hallway and turn the corner, then she chased him.

"Hey!" he turned, surprised.

"Umm... I should walk you out. At least to be sure those guys aren't outside waiting..."

If it were someone else, someone less pretty, who didn't magically smell nice, even with that undertone of sweat, he'd have asked, "What are you gonna do? Ballet them away?* but, Gracemon had been kind when he needed a save and also, she was checking on him? His mom didn't even check on him...

"And it's just Grace." she laughed awkwardly and she opened the door of the school and glanced around, "Coast looks clear. If... they're after you tomorrow... come straight in. I'll be here."

"Are you almost done?" he asked.

Now, she erupted into a fit of laughter and held her belly. Whenever she caught her breath, she just said, "No. Nowhere near. See you around." she vanished into the building and Simon looked around. It was dark. But... this is a nice neighborhood and she seems used to this... Still... it seemed wrong to leave her. Then again, he had no idea when she'd finish, she probably had a ride, AND, he needed to immediately get started on her character for his novel. Some type of stunning princess or something. Reluctantly, he headed home, with his mind full of a girl he'd just met. He had no idea how much that was gonna become part of his life. He wasn’t sure where he was, but he saw a train station. He’d never been on one by himself before, though...

Whenever he went to the booth to ask questions, he’d missed it, but there were maps, so he looked at one and figured out the way he needed to go to get home. 

Some time later whenever he came running inside, he immediately went into his parents’ room, breathing heavy and said, “Mom! I’m sorry I’m late. I ended up on the other side of town and I missed the train coming back...”

The woman took a deep breath, shut her book and looked at him. “Simon. Did you knock before you came in here?” She asked.

“No, ma’am.”

“Aren’t you supposed to?” She asked.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Yet, you didn’t.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll go now... Enjoy your book, Mom.” She watched him leave and opened her book again. He shut the door behind him and went into the kitchen. Nothing was prepared. He looked into the fridge and saw that they were apparently out of all of the casseroles that the neighbors had brought by. He pulled out a few items, sure that he could make something work with them, but... not really... He might need some help.

His father was in the garage, working on a model train. There were several photos of his little sister, hung up at his father’s work center. “Dad? Are you hungry?” he asked.

Unlike his mother, his father didn’t even glance up at him, though his tone was nice enough, “No, I’ll be fine. You can eat without me.” Simon didn’t know how to tell him that wasn’t why he asked. So, he went back into the kitchen and LUCKILY realized that there was cereal. He could do cereal! Even his sister could do cereal and she had only been... 4. Both of his parents were taking it really hard. He didn’t want to resent them or feel like they loved her more. She was gone and that was obviously painful... But he was still there... And neither of them had cared since they lost her. 

There was no peace. Not at home with these two adults that had given up on him. Not at school with those bullies. He didn’t have anywhere that he could escape. So, he threw himself into fantasy stories, and he was content to live there, if he could have. The only other place that might be better was that auditorium, across town, with the pretty ballerina... that reminded him, he had some drawing to do!

.

Whenever Grace returned to the auditorium, her instructor was there, waiting, stern faced. “Have you been practicing while I ran my errand, Grace?”

“Yes! Yes, I have.”

“Well, let’s see it, then,” the woman gestured towards the stage and Grace rushed to perform her presentation. She felt when she made the same mistakes that she had mentioned earlier to that kid, and although she kept going, it made her chest feel extremely tight to know that she messed up. At the end, the teacher sighed and suggested, “Perhaps I shouldn’t leave you for even a moment. Where were you when I came in?”

“I was walking a kid outside who had stumbled in here, running from bullies,” Grace said, cheerfully.

“Grace... What did your parents say about trying to talk your way out of hard work?”

“It really happened. Just check your footage,” Grace pointed towards the camera. 

“Very well. At any rate, from the top...”

The driver met Grace outside and she was fortunate that she didn’t have to go to school at a crowded school, because after practice, she was always so tired and her body was sore and her feet throbbed. But, not being in a school also meant not seeing other kids. And even coming to this auditorium to practice her part for a dance recital - which her parents insisted she had down pat before ever even meeting the other girls - was such a break from her typical lifestyle. She’d convinced them that she needed to practice on the stage that she would be performing on first, and even had to admit that she didn’t feel confident about dancing with other girls and that she was scared. Her parents hated that word. They translated it to laziness. They translated everything to laziness. She wasn’t “tired,” she was lazy. She wasn’t “sick.” She was lazy...

Just thinking about it made her want to get out of the car one day at a stoplight, run away and never come back. But, where would she even go? She was stuck here. This was her life. She had a recital next week with a bunch of strangers and the most that she had talked to another kid in she couldn’t even remember how long had been a fluke. She wondered if he made it home okay, though. Simon. He seemed like a really nice kid. She wanted to protect him. Wanted to get those bullies to stay away from him. She laughed a little bit, creating these scenarios of how she might rush in and save this kid and then she might have a friend! 

She sighed. Daydreaming was lazy, and she was pretty sure that she was never gonna see that kid again.

Until of course, she did. The next day. She noticed him enter this time, and she smiled brightly, but continued dancing as her instructor counted off counts. That was her best practice yet! And, her instructor even agreed that Simon could stay, as long as it didn’t distract her. Whenever she left, she took him with her and had the car bring him home. It... became a thing. She... made a friend.


	2. Don't Trust Adults

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: child neglect, abuse, mentions of child death

She was 12. The past couple of years had been easier than all 10 preceding them, but she wasn’t quite aware enough to credit that to her friendship with Simon Laurent. To be perfectly honest, she was a very self centered child and that didn’t magically change when she found herself a friend at the age of 10. In fact, Simon’s attention made her a little more sure of herself. She had been working off of the idea that she was never good enough, even though she found it hard to find flaws in herself. 

She would look into the mirror and think, “She’s beautiful. She’s a goddess. how are people not seeing that??” She would look at the world and see flowing blond hair, fair skin, rosy cheeks and this was the height of all beauty. This was the height of all acceptance. It was meh, for her. She would look in the mirror. THIS is the height of all beauty. She kept a mirror on her at all times and in instances where she might be challenged or criticized, she would take a look at herself and remember. They’re just jealous. Look at you, and look at them. She would quickly get over any rudeness, alienation, or discrimination, because those people just wanted to be her, and you weren’t going to convince her of any other alternative.

Then, came along Simon. He was appealing in this "looks aren't his main concern, but he's got a few nice features" sort of way, and he always seemed to need to have his hands doing something.

The first time she saw him, when they were 10, she spent several minutes weighing out what she was seeing in front of her. A boy, her age or in her age range, a nerd? He had a backpack with a bunch of patches and pins on it - stuff that she wasn’t too familiar with, but TV and stuff would indicate were nerdy things. She had never met a real nerd, that she could remember, so that part was debatable. He wasn’t very wealthy. That was evident from the state of his pants that were ripped at one of the knees and clearly not in a fashionable way - he’d simply worn them out, and also his shoes... which WEREN’T shoes... they were sandals... and he had socks on with them... so... he had no fashion sense, EITHER, and apparently neither did whatever adult was responsible for him. If there WAS an adult responsible for him. 

It was nighttime. Her instructor had gone for a little while to finish up some things before the shops closed at 7 or 8, so it was nighttime, and this kid her age was running into this building from a gang of bullies, by himself, in the condition that he was in. There probably wasn’t an adult that cared, or realized... (in that case, probably didn’t care) because if you cared, you’d realized that your kid was a complete mess. 

And this kid was a complete mess. 

But... he seemed innocent, and he seemed nice. Grace may have been self centered, but she knew that nice kids weren’t easy to come across. After she sent the kid on his way, she thought that was that.

Whenever he came back the next night, she was convinced: This is a street kid. There are no parents. There are no adults. That must be really fun and cool! She demanded that her driver bring him home, and whenever the car stopped, she began to get out, too.

Simon seemed nervous to have her getting out of the car at his house, but what was he going to do? Argue with her? She’d just given him a ride home. He KNEW he should have gotten her to drop him off a few blocks away and pretended to go into some other house! “You don’t have to get out,” he said, anxiously. 

“Are you kidding? I have to see the adults that let you stay out past dark by yourself, and walk out of the house like that.” She circled a finger up and down his form and he blushed, embarrassed. But also... he couldn’t show his adults to her. They were always in their own spaces and he was always shut out of said spaces. She laughed and mumbled in singsong tone, “Socks and sandals.” He knew he was turning even redder and he was grateful it was dark out, though the moon did offer some light and the rest was provided by the open garage, where his dad was working.

“Dad, this is Grace. She gave me a ride home...” Simon said, shuffling his feet and looking at the ground with his hands pulling his backpack strings. 

The palest man that Grace had ever seen in her life, with blonder than blond hair, and blond flesh - if that was a thing and eyebrows and arm hairs, and just all blond colored features turned to look at her. She stepped back, but stepped on Simon’s toe and leapt forward apologetically, then reflexively extended her hand, “Grace Monroe of the Monroe Square Monroes!” She said. He had on work gloves, which he removed to shake her hand and offered a smile. It was a smile, she was sure of it, but his pale features made it a little hard for her to tell and she also thought it looked sad. 

But, his voice was friendly. He said, “Well, I never thought I’d see the day that a Monroe would be in here...” But he quickly became worried and crossed his arms over his chest, “Simon, what did you do?” He asked.

“I didn’t do anything!” Simon snapped. He had gotten into several fights in the past few weeks (none he’d started) and gotten enraged a few times and “vandalized” some things, so NOW, everybody always suspected that he did something.

“We’re friends!” Grace cheered, clapping her hands together, happy to be able to make such an announcement, whether or not it was true. This situation seemed to need some type of... nice girl talk. 

Mr. Laurent stared at her for a moment and lowered his arms. “Friends?” He didn’t say, “Simon doesn’t have any friends,” but Simon felt like he heard the statement as clearly as if he had. He shrank a little, hoping that Grace couldn’t hear it too. Instead, the man offered a smile and said, “Well, nice to meet you, Grace Monroe. Simon can tell you that I’m working on something and can’t afford too many breaks, but you’re welcome to anything in the house. You kids have fun.”

She looked confused. “I’m going home. It’s almost 10. We were just dropping Simon off because he was out...” But the man didn’t respond, as he put his work gloves back on and got back to his project.

Simon offered, “He’s kinda in the zone.”

“What about your mom?” Grace asked, excitedly. She’d never met a friend’s parents before and it was kinda interesting how different these were than her own! Her parents would NEVER be this chill about her coming home late from an unplanned appointment or event. Her driver was likely checking in with them right now, hopefully saying that there was unexpected traffic.

Simon looked incredibly sad, pulled out a luggage tag, attached to, but tucked into, his backpack of a family portrait and said, “This is her. But, she doesn’t like to be bothered. She’s probably reading or passed out. She’s my mom, but she doesn’t really do mom stuff anymore. Something happened and she’s... She has something where she’s really sad and has to try to get doctors to make her less sad, but it hasn’t worked yet, so she just stays in her room.”

Grace got sad. Uncomfortably so. She tried to change the subject and pointed to a little girl sitting in the photo, “Well, where’s this little cute thing? With a nanny, while your mom is sad-sick?” Simon’s eyebrows pushed closely together and he stared at the photo. He didn’t really talk about this. He didn’t like to, and his parents had stopped trying to speak with him about it too. Anytime it came up, he usually got really angry and scared. He tried to catch his breath, forgetting that Grace was there for a moment, but still wanting to at least hold on to some type of control.

Grace felt bad because of his face and she was worried that he was about to yell at her and tell her to leave. He was making the kind of face that her dad made right before he stripped away every inch of confidence that she had in something that she thought she did right, and he’d let her know that she had not. She stepped back and quickly tried to diffuse it. “Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. You’d have told me if you wanted me to know! I’m going to go. You have a good night, Simon.”

He looked up at her, and his face changed. It softened. It warmed up. His eyebrows evened out and a tiny smile fought to cross his lips. She sighed, a little bit relieved that the monster that she thought she’d woken up was gone and there was her new friend again. “You too, Grace,” he said. He tucked the tag into his bag, without looking at it, and went into the house, through a door in the garage. “Good night, Dad.” 

She looked at his super blond dad. He didn’t even seem to hear his son, but whenever she started walking away, the man said, “Good night, Young Lady!” Which... made her feel like maybe he’d purposefully not said it to Simon. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she choked out another fake cheerful good night for the adult, because it was very rude not to reply to adults and if he was mean to his own son, she didn’t know how mean he might be to her if she insulted him.

After that night, whenever she brought him home, they just dropped him off, saw that he got inside, and left. After the recital, she wasn’t going to be having those practices anymore, though. She’d be back on a schedule at her home. She... wouldn’t see Simon again. 

The other girls went out for ice cream. They didn’t invite Grace. She was really upset about it, but whenever she heard Simon’s voice calling her name and turned to see that he had come out in, not only a complete pair of pants, but also actual shoes, she felt all of the rejection that was encasing itself around her heart just melt. She whispered, “Simon.” He smiled, a little startled and confused about whatever her tone of voice was, but he didn’t pay it too much attention and began to shower her with praise about the show. 

He admitted that he had to case the auditorium and find another way in, because he didn’t have a ticket, but that he had gotten in and had seen her entire performance. “You were the best out there!” he had said. Nobody ever told her that before. And even though it was true, in her mind, whenever Simon said it, it became a little bit more real. She felt validated and vindicated. Just like a game of Simon Says, but Simon is your friend and he knows what’s best... Not trying to make you look silly. She was gleaming... then it stopped. “What’s wrong?” 

“This is the last night that I’m gonna be here,” she said in the saddest voice that he’d ever heard come out of her. “I’m going to be at home tomorrow night and there won’t be another reason for me to be back in the city.” Simon’s face went through an array of emotions. His smile faded, then his mouth turned into a frown, then his lips quivered a bit and his eyes darkened and dampened. She was leaving? She wasn’t going to come back? He wasn’t going to see her again? She was gonna be gone... Just like... He lowered his head and blinked away tears. 

She felt her chest tighten again. “Maybe...” He looked up, hopeful and misty eyed, his face begging her for a solution to this pain she’d just inflicted on him, “Maybe we could find a way to see each other... closer to where I live? It’s far from you, but...” She shook her head, clenching her dress, “No. That’s stupid. And it’s unfair. You don’t have the means to come see me... But my parents will never let me come this far out without good reason...”

“I’ll do it!” Simon declared. “I’ll come to see you, sure.”

She couldn’t bear looking up at him, “How would you do that?”

“I’m...” He thought for a while, trying to even guess what would be possible for this, “Gonna learn the train schedule. I’ll figure out the route closest to you, and then hike the rest of the way there,” he said like it was some type of simple idea. And at 10, it seemed like one to her too. Because she looked up, in just as much excitement and smiled brightly. And that was all that Simon needed as fuel. Yes, he was going to make it work to see her smiling face. “Ummm... I can start learning tomorrow,” he said. 

“Okay, But... Do you wanna go get some ice cream with me before we take you home?” She had her dress clutched firmly in her gloved hands and hoped that he didn’t notice them, because she hated that portion of herself that did that whenever she was scared. Being scared was being lazy, and clutching her clothing to try to get over it was being weak.

“I don’t really have ice cream money,” Simon admitted, blushing in embarrassment. He had gone into his small savings just to get some decent pants and shoes, even though he got them thrift shop... they were outside of his budget. He was gonna buy himself a new figure to compose, but decided that Grace’s recital was more important, because she worked really hard and her parents couldn’t come. 

She laughed and waved a hand, “I’m inviting you, Simon. I’ve got you!” He smiled and nodded his head with a little affirmative grunt. I’ve got you. That mattered a lot to him that night. He wasn’t going to ever let it go, and two years later, he hadn’t.

.

They were 12. Grace was annoyed that she made the mistake of expressing interest in making the music she danced to, because NOW, she had to have hours of music theory, composition, and instrument practice added to her schedule, and that didn’t mean she got a “break” from dance. It only meant that she was fortifying her resume. She didn’t want to fortify her resume. She wanted to maybe watch one of those vids on the Internet, like Simon sometimes did to help him create a dragon out of household items, but like for her to create a really sick mix for her next audition... But, here she was, buried in research and scarce for free time.

Then, she heard her favorite sound in the world! Simon coming up the fire escape stairs. He was the only person who ever used those, so she knew it was him every time. She put her work away in the drawer of her vanity, which she used as a desk, because she didn’t want a desk in her room, because it might just take up too much space, and she always had a lot of plans for the space in her room.

He climbed into the window and tossed his backpack down. She met him with a hug and asked him about what he was working on. Simon was her nice break from things. He would always be really excited to talk about the stuff that was going on in his life (his stories and models) and he always sprinkled in either something fun and competitive, or accolades for her as a person and her talents. It was perfect. She was able to get all of her praise, ignore all of her responsibilities for a bit, and most importantly, not delve too much into her private and personal matters. If she put the focus on Simon’s feelings and experiences, she didn’t have to share her own.

It wasn’t that she thought that Simon wouldn’t care about her problems, it was that she knew he would. Simon had enough problems without her burdening him with her stuff. 

Like, shortly after they met, his mom bought an emotional support cat, but she neglects it as much as she did him, so it wound up being Simon’s emotional support cat, only the cat is a TOTAL B word, and of all the things to call one... his mom decided on “Samantha.” Why on earth would anybody name a cat Samantha? Then again, the cat was a TOTAL Samantha. She knew she was smart and she was quite selfish and conceited. 

Grace told Simon that all cats are that way, but she only read that somewhere. Samantha was the only cat that she really ever gotten anywhere close to, and not often, because she didn’t go to Simon’s house. But, he always had things to say about her, and made a little comic “Tales of Samantha” that he’d post on the Internet. It had a huge following. Apparently, people who really loved cats also really loved talking a lot of trash about them and seeing them be terrible and funny at the same time.

Simon preferred talking about Samantha, grazing over his dad’s current model obsession, and occasionally venting about his mom. Like, how he stopped trying to make her dinner whenever he’d knocked on the door, as per house rules, and accidentally woke her up, causing her to have such an emotional explosion that his dad heard it from the garage and came inside to try to settle her down. Apparently, at some point in the explosion, she had confessed that it “Should have been” Simon... And he stopped at that point, in retelling the incident, and also in interacting with his mother at all. It wasn’t even that he disagreed with her. He just... Didn’t need to have to face that feeling if he thought that he didn’t HAVE to.

Grace had been exactly what he needed at the time, though. She always was. Her brown eyes were soft on him when he said out loud the most painful things that he ever thought he would have to say. She touched his shoulder, squeezed it and tousled his hair with the other hand, “It shouldn’t have been either of you. I’m sorry that your sister is gone, but I’m super glad that you aren’t. And it’s really unfortunate that it was her, but it shouldn’t have been you, either. And you constantly blaming yourself is bad enough, without additional help from the REAL villains in this tragedy. Who leaves their 10 year old and 4 year old unsupervised? It’s illegal in most states, and in those states where it’s legal, there is a time frame and she was still too young to feature in those. I read it, myself. The real problem with most of our lives is the adults.” Her face turned and she looked elsewhere for a moment, “They’re...”

“Not to be trusted,’ he completed the sentence. She smiled and looked at him again. He got it. Sometimes, it was like he was inside of her mind.

“Exactly.”

“But, they have all of the power. Even being a very independent 12 year old, if I do say so myself; there’s so many things that I can’t do without the approval or permission of one.”

“This world is rigged against us, Man.” 

“Speaking of things we read. I read that at 16, I can emancipate myself.” Simon looked thoughtfully ahead, “And I’m pretty sure that I’m gonna.” She smiled sadly and lowered her head. “You gonna come with?”

She laughed, “If I thought that there was anywhere in this world that my parents couldn’t find me and bring me back (And make me suffer for having the audacity to go), I’d have strapped on my sneaks and got to running a long time ago.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “But, you’ll still come see me, right?”

“I’m gonna leave my parents, Grace. Not you. I’d never leave you.” He wrapped an arm around her and she settled into his side, unaware that she had been so tense a moment before that needed confirmation. “We’re a team,” he whispered. She just smiled. We’re a team.


	3. Animals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: violence

Grace got out of the car and strutted to the music shop. She looked around thoughtfully until her driver left, then she left too. Simon was waiting for her at the train stop. Whenever her driver came back in an hour, no, she wouldn’t be there, but this adventure was gonna be worth it. Simon’s dad recently went back to the military and he had made sure his mom had everything she needed for a bit. He and Grace were going to go on a hike around the creek. 

Simon had a map and showed her the areas where there were certain animals, certain bugs and stuff to look out for. She had been hiking many times, just not out here. It was such a nice journey, too. The scenery was pretty and green. She liked water and she and Simon had a play fight where they splashed each other before she took off running and he gave chase. She picked some flowers for them and began tangling them around. “You know, whenever you pick flowers, you shorten their lifespan,” he said.

“I know that they’re just flowers and I don’t care about their life span,” she said.

He laughed, “There are people whose lifespans I don’t even care about, if I’m being honest.” She smiled and nodded. They didn’t need to elaborate. Adults were awful and their parents were the worst and nothing anybody could say would change that fact for them. 

“Here,” she said, and placed a flower crown on top of his head. He posed for her with a duckface and gave her a little shoulder action. “Dainty,” she said, with a smile. Simon plucked another flower and settled it into the side of her curls. Now, it was her turn to strike a pose. 

The sunlight made her skin glow and the flower was the least of the beauty for him. “Beautiful,” he whispered, solemnly. 

She giggled and nodded, “I know. Just GORGEOUS, I’m sure.” She pulled out a mirror to check herself out, adjusted the flower a little and turned to check her entire face. “Oh! Let’s take a selfie!” She grabbed her cell phone, and they began to pose together and snap photos. They took turns taking singles of the other too, and eventually stopped for lunch. 

Simon laid a thin blanket down and Grace pulled out the containers of food. They were laughing and talking when Simon froze and Grace turned to see a couple of guys come through the bushes. She raised an eyebrow at Simon’s reaction, then continued eating, electing to ignore them, for now. SImon wasn’t doing such a good job of that, himself.

“Hey. Who’s this?” One of them asked. 

Simon turned red in the face and Grace noticed his breathing increase, but she didn’t stop eating. Instead, she smiled at the guy and said, “The name’s Grace,” and popped a piece of honeydew melon into her mouth. She left off Monroe on purpose. There were times that she would mention it on purpose, but she felt like this was the kind of situation where it would do more harm than good.

The speaking bully came over to her, and she casually finished off her fruit, licking her fork while he moved into her personal space. Simon was furious. It was bad enough whenever they messed with him, but if they were going to try to mess with Grace too, Simon wasn’t sure what he might do to them. 

“You ought not to be alone with this kid. Sometimes, girls don’t come back whenever they’re left along with him,” he said, reaching towards Grace’s face or hair or… something. None of them were certain what his plans were, but it was quickly looking like he was about to touch her. 

Simon was ready to respond angrily, but before he even had the chance to react, Grace had stabbed the boy in his supporting hand with her fork, then elbowed him in the face with a loud groaning yell. Simon froze for a moment, as did the other two bullies. Everyone but her gasped.

Grace leapt to her feet, effortlessly, reached for her bag, swung it several times and slammed it into the dude’s face. He was screaming and fell, with his head spinning, unable to get up. She withdrew her fork from his hand, and beckoned his friends to her, but they took off running. 

Simon came over smiling, as she reached for the head bully’s collar and pulled him to face her, “What you said about my friend was really mean. Do you see how that could be taken as mean?” He nodded. He was clearly confused and scared. She sounded super sweet in her tone, but what she had just shown him was that she was anything but... “Okay, cool! Then, you know that you did this to yourself.” The much larger boy began to pee on himself and cry. Grace and Simon started laughing at him. 

Grace stopped laughing first and the abrupt way that she did and the look in her eyes terrified the bully even more. “I hate bullies. My dad is a bully. My mom is a bully. If I could, I’d drown them in this creek and hide their bodies. But, I can’t. However… Here YOU are…” Her sweet voice was gone. Her pretenses down. She looked terrifying. Simon was proud to be near her.

“Please… please… don’t…”

“Oh? Does death now somehow mean something to you? It didn’t a moment ago when you so blatantly disrespected the memory of my friend’s poor baby sister who lost her life way too soon. Now, it’s serious, I guess?” He nodded, crying and apologizing. She reached into her bag and pulled out a tube of lipstick. She drew a DO NOT sign on his face and promised him, “If you ever mess with Simon again, I’ll come after you, and next time, it won’t be lipstick. It’ll be my knife.” She opened her knife and stabbed it into the ground beside his head. 

As soon as she let go of him, he crawled first, then pulled himself up as he ran. She watched and laughed. “Nice meeting youuuuu!” 

Her adrenaline was pumping, blood was racing through her system and her heartbeat was loud in her ears and oh so quick. She had never stood up for herself before and it felt stupendous. It was such a rush to FINALLY not be scared or weak. She felt like she could take on the entire world at this moment.

Simon hugged her from behind and she enveloped his arms with hers, coming down only a little at the realization that he was still there with her. Nobody had ever done anything like that for him before, and even though they had been friends, there was still something so moving about her jumping so quickly to defend him.

“Do you think he’ll spread the message, or should we track down the other two?” She wondered, turning in his arms to look at him. 

He looked super excited and they both knew in that moment that their hearts were in the same place. “I think seeing is believing, but experience gives it a little umph. We should track them down!”

She stepped back, took a few more breaths, with this maniacal smile that fit perfectly with Simons’s, turned, sputtered air through her lips, pointed her knife forward and said, “Let’s get them.” 

.

When Grace finally got back to the music shop, covered in dirt and sweat and a few specks of blood from taking turns punching in the face of one of those boys, the driver was upset, but relieved. She had texted him that she got sidetracked, hours ago, but he hadn’t been convinced that she hadn’t finally decided to run away until he saw her and Simon coming back. Simon had a little bit more blood on him and the driver put up his hand and asked, “Do we need to call in someone to clean up after you two?”

Simon laughed and asked, “That’s an option?”

Grace said, “No!” in her most dismissive voice to the driver and slapped Simon playfully, “Simon and I went hiking and whenever we were having a picnic, we got attacked by a few animals.” The way that she said animals was a different tone than the way that she said other things. “We defended ourselves and all is good.” 

Simon laughed, reminiscing. It felt good to finally get those guys back. He’d tried to fight them off before, but they were bigger and outnumbered him and he guessed that some part of him felt like maybe he must’ve deserved it. He fought back because survival instincts made him, but the thought that he didn’t deserve it didn’t even really occur to him until Grace told him so. And the thought of avenging himself probably never would have dawned on him. Grace was… a savior. He looked at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“We’re taking Simon home,” she said.

“We absolutely are not! It’s bad enough you’ve got animal blood on you. Simon has it all over him! He’s not getting into this car.”

“I’ll clean it out, myself!” She said.

“When have you ever cleaned anything?” the driver asked. 

“I shower, every night!” 

“That’s not the same!”

“Grace… I’m gonna be okay. Actually, I think I’m gonna walk home. Kinda feel like being with my thoughts a little bit.” He pulled his hoodie over himself and it covered up the blood, as most of it was on his upper body. “Goodnight.”

“Let me know when you get home safely!” She insisted.

“Will do.”

Whenever the driver opened the door for her, he said, “I find it hard to believe that you and Simon punched predatory animals. Whatever happened today… You need to be careful, Grace. It’s not like you to run off and come back looking like you’ve been in a bare knuckle brawl!”

“It’s not a brawl if they don’t get any shots, amirite? HEYOOOO!” She lifted her hand for a high five. He looked serious. “Look… Just… I’ll tell my parents that there was an impromptu concert, I made the bad decision to go, and I got knocked around in the mosh pit. I read it in a book, so it’s a thing. You don’t have to worry about me getting you into any trouble.” She got into the car and he shut the door. That wasn’t what worried him.

Grace opened her bag. She looked at a few items. A fork, a pair of glasses and an earring. She smiled to herself. Simon had given her two of those things that he snatched off of the boys… as tribute of sorts. She should’ve gotten something off of that big ox, too. The fork was gonna have to do. She was gonna keep these mementos in a special place. 

Simon shoplifted a blank journal. Yeah, he could’ve saved up for it, but also, the owner of the shop was a rich jerk who thought he was suspicious, so in Simon’s mind, might as well give him a reason to hate. He spent a long time in the shower that night. He was sore and filthy. He put everything in the laundry, peeked into his mother’s room. She was snoring and Samantha was practically sitting right on her face. How did Samantha even get in there? Oh well. 

He picked up the flower crown that Grace had made him. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to salvage it, but he took the flowers and wrapped them in wax paper. He’d be able to press them with an iron and have them last for a while. As for the stems, he started to strand them together with some twine and fashioned himself a little hair tie. He hadn’t actually brushed through his hair in a while, but he brushed it back and pulled it into a little tail. 

Most of his hair fell out of the thing, but he didn’t care. Maybe he’d make a bracelet instead? Ugh. Not tonight. He was tired, but... satisfied. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d crawled into bed feeling so fulfilled. He brought his journal with him and began to write in it about today, but also about Grace, who he also was drawing on the pages, and he was doing so whenever he fell to sleep and had the first night’s peaceful rest that he had gotten in at least two years.


	4. The Apex Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to sort of put the concept of “the apex” into the story without actually having a cult of children. I think that the circumstances of the train led to the philosophy going that far, but I still think that in real world situations, both of these characters would both 1. be prone to violence and 2. develop an us vs them mindset.   
> TW for violence, mental health discourse, unresolved trauma

This was who they were together. Grace and Simon. She would venture into town, figure out some excuse, and he would meet her. They traveled the city together, taking whatever they wanted, because rich people sucked and if you owned a business, you were rich and deserved whatever happened. They got into scuffles with people who seemed to disrespect one or both of them. They instantly went into defensive mode over each other. 

Neither was afraid to resort to violence, because that’s just what you did for friends. You did anything that they needed. You did whatever you had to do. That was a good sign of survival of the fittest. That was the proof that you were better than everybody else - that you were the apex of human evolution. 

If you had to answer to people and were afraid to challenge them and fight for yourself and your loved ones - you were less than nothing. You were a “null.” Grace and Simon had decided that they would never be like that, and they didn’t have to be, because they had each other. He thought she was a true queen, and she trusted him with her life. 

She lost her driver over it. That was one of the things that she did hate, because he sort of had to suffer for her to be able to have this solid friendship with Simon, and she loved her driver and everything...

But he wasn’t Simon, so he could be sacrificed. He had to be. She had come back to the car with a huge plug of her hair missing and she laughed it off and said that she had gotten caught on something on the train and accidentally ripped it out. That was actually partially true. 

A woman on the train got herself into a fight with Grace. She was some college lady, making faces whenever Grace and Simon were talking too loud and practically snarling at Grace. Simon began to imitate her, and she sat there growing red in the face, obviously noticing them, but whenever Grace joined in to make fun of her as well, she got irate. They called each other names and Grace dared the woman to hit her, so... she was willing to sort of take responsibility for the fact that the woman came through on the dare and slapped her right in the face. Grace laughed, but also charged towards her...

The woman had taken a handful of her hair after an argument that escalated into violence, into her punching the woman in the gut while she clutched Grace’s hair trying to get her off, and it didn’t end until Simon had dragged the woman off of the train in a choke hold and threw her down on the terminal, ready to stomp the life out of her. The woman shielded herself with both of her arms, praying that this boy didn’t kick her. Fortunately for her, he didn’t. He wanted to and definitely would have after the way that she’d attacked Grace, but Grace stopped him. 

She pointed to a surveillance camera, with her other arm blocking her face from it. She and Simon took off running, leaving an almost passed out (obnoxious) college student with a bruised midsection and holding a plug of hair in her fist. Simon stole Grace a mask not too long after. He had nothing to lose as far as he was concerned, but her family was well known in this place and she did worry about them knowing about this part of her life.

The driver had been going through months of covering for Grace, but this missing plug of hair - he had to take action. She’d told her lie and her mother stressed over all of her beautiful hair that they had to shave off, but she spun in that Grace was doing “the big chop” and going natural… Grace was kinda into that. She often had curly styles, but her hair wasn’t that type of curly, so work went into her look. Work that she hopefully wouldn’t have to go through for a while, now that she was starting her hair journey over. In her video chat with Simon afterwards, he thought it was an amazing look for her, so she quickly got over it.

The driver spoke with her parents, admitting that he allowed her to spend time with a friend in town sometimes, (he didn’t give them details about Simon specifically), but that he honestly thought that she might need some professional help, because she always came back banged up or covered in something suspicious. She’d freshen up and change in the car and clean out the backseat with extreme diligence and tell them a lie about where she had been. Well… This was not only news to them, but HAD to have been fake news.

They weren’t sure why he would LIE this way about their perfect child, but they knew he was, because there was no way Grace would EVER stand up against them. 

“I think that she may need some serious help.”

“You are the help,” Mrs. Monroe told him.

“I’m not the kind of help that Grace needs…” He started.

“You’re right,” Mr. Monroe told him. “You’re obviously useless. Expect your last paycheck in the mail. We no longer require your services.” Whenever Grace was sent for, she passed the driver on the way to the living room. He looked sad and wished her well as they crossed paths. “Grace!” Her father called. She jumped and ran into the room. “We’ve let your driver go.”

She gasped and placed her hand over her heart, “Oh my God! What happened, Daddy?”

Her mother spoke, “He suggested that you need help. We gathered that he was insinuating psychiatric help, from the tales he was spinning about your behavior in the city.” Grace froze and touched the spot where the missing plug of hair had been. That must have been it. The thing that was about to lose her everything that she had formed with Simon… “Of course, we know that he is mistaken. We didn’t raise someone that weak or lazy.” Grace’s eyes were large and damp. She nodded. “IF you needed help… that would be very unfortunate. A lot of work would be down the drain.”

Grace’s throat was dry as she said, “I’ve told you everything that happens whenever I go into town. I;m not sure why he would say that I’ve done anything wrong. I would never embarrass you.”

Both of her parents advanced on her and she was frozen still, unsure of what would happen next. They both gave her a hug and told her that was the perfect response. “Imagine! Our daughter needing help, aside from the likes of the staff? I never thought that I would ever hear something so ridiculous,” her mother said, then quickly grabbed her by the chin harder than she knew was out of love and the threatening look in her eyes confirmed that much as she said, through the teeth of her smile, “And we’d better not ever hear such a thing about you again.” She nodded, terrified. 

Mrs. Monroe let go of her face and Mr. Monroe simply gave her a look, the look that told her he knew that she was lying and he was disappointed in her. At least he wasn’t saying so. But, Grace was both relieved and shaken up. 

So, they gave Grace a new driver, and Grace explained to him straight out of the gate the way it was going to work for them to function and him to keep his job. He was younger than her last driver, and didn’t mind letting her sneak off and enjoy herself. Her parents were total hardasses,so he understood her desire to get some time away sometimes. Plus, he had no idea the kinds of things she got up to whenever she left the vehicle. He didn’t know that the last driver was absolutely right and that she probably did seriously need some help. Unfortunately, she didn’t know it either. She just knew that she had to be more careful.

A mask helped, and because she had the body of a dancer, some counter culture street wear and a shaved head, people often seemed to think that there were two boys terrorizing them. Simon shaved the back of his head in solidarity, but she thought he did it to look “even more broody.”

Any time that Grace and Simon engaged with someone in conflict, Simon had a habit of taking something off of them and giving it to Grace. Her collection was getting pretty big. She kept all of the trinkets in her hope chest. The thing was just symbolic, anyways. She was never gonna get married and she wasn’t sure that her parents honestly expected her to.

Compromise only went so far with the Monroes. Grace had become brave enough to make suggestions in her sweetest voice without paralyzing fear, but she definitely still felt afraid whenever she did speak up. Being 14 and old enough to go to high school, she REALLY wanted to finally be able to go be with other kids! She wanted to meet other people and find out things that they had in common or whatever else teenagers did when they got to high school. And, fortunately for her, her father was sure that another recession was coming and didn’t mind saving a little on private instructors… 

HOWEVER, she definitely wasn’t going to be allowed to go to Simon’s school (the school she’d suggested). So, they enrolled her into the most prestigious private school in town. 

Whenever she found out that she would be going, she asked Simon if it was at all possible for him to go to that school too. After two full minutes of him laughing in her face, to the point of belly ache and tears, he cleared his throat, wiped his eyes and reminded her, “That place is for rich kids.”

It just so happened that she had read about this school and there were multiple programs in which less fortunate students could earn scholarships. She had known Simon for almost 4 years and had seen him be very good at many things that required mental intelligence and/or technical skill. He was good at creating things, building stuff, writing, photography.... There had to be something he was good enough at to gain a scholarship.

“There is literally nothing that I’m good enough at to get a scholarship into a school like that,” he said, while she was pacing and talking to herself about all of the things that Simon was great at, going down the list out loud to come up with a plan to get him into school with her. He rolled his eyes and went back to typing on the hand me down laptop that he’d gotten from her whenever her parents bought her a new one. Simon really appreciated that Grace thought so highly of his skills, but he knew that the school wouldn’t share her affinity for him or any of his skills. 

She sputtered air through her lips - a habit that she’d had for many years, and then she looked up and said, “Write an essay about your family.” He tensed up, frowned and stared at her. 

Grace smiled, put her hands behind her back and sauntered over to him. “It sounds painful right now, BUT this will not only give you a chance to get out some of the stress that you hold inside, keeping it all in, it’ll ALSO be just what those stuffy adults on the board need to have some mercy on us and let you into the school. I’ve read somewhere that it doesn’t help to hold things in. Think of it as... journaling, but for your future!”

Simon did journaling, sort of. He definitely wrote about his life, but translated it into fantasy, outside of his manifesto, of course. But, that wasn’t the point right now. “You think that telling people that I accidentally let my baby sister die, which caused my mom to become so angry at me that she devolved into this abusive and suicidal phantom that lives in our house, and made my father neglect me and her, up until he reenlisted in the military and left me to take care of somebody who absolutely hates me - is a good thing to tell a place with an upstanding reputation?”

She winced with every word he said. She had been around for most of that and had been the only person to see him through most of it. But, now, she was telling him exactly this. “I think that this kind of stuff, while atrocious and painful to US, is like a drug to them. They wanna take you and say, look how I’ve fixed this up. They want to take your pain and make it into a story that they can brag about.”

“And why would I want them to do that?” he asked, shivering at the thought of anybody else but her and Samantha to ever learn about his family issues. Journaling was one thing, but this was something different and it felt extremely uncomfortable.

“It’s not that you would want to do it. It’s that it would be a way for us to be in school together,” she said. 

“It’s asking a lot, Grace.” He set the laptop aside and shook his head, “I wanna be with you. You know I do, but it’s really asking a lot.”

She lowered her head, nodded, and flopped down on the seat next to him on her cushioned reading bench. “You’re right. I’m so sorry that I suggested that. I guess desperation made me weird. I don’t see the point of even going to school and meeting other people if I don’t have you there with me. You’re kinda like the other side of me that my parents never let bloom. Me in a new school surrounded by all those strangers without you… That’s gonna be like me navigating life chopped in half. I know that I can't be my best there without “us.” I guess I panicked and didn’t think about what it would mean for you to have to think about the way your adults have done you.” She clasped her hands together, sputtered out some air, and rested her lips against them, silently praying for some type of plan or something.

He didn’t like the condition she was in and now he felt guilty. “Okay,” Simon said. He reached over and covered her clasped hands with one of his own and pulled her into a hug with his other arm. “I’ll do it.” He was shivering and she wanted to tell him not to worry about it, that it was too much to ask and if he didn’t want to, not to do it for her benefit. But, she was 14, and very selfish. So, all she did was smile at him and push some strands of hair from his face. Their faces were really close, but she didn’t really ever think about stuff like that. There wasn’t any “personal space” between them. He was her other half and that meant his personal space was simply an extension of hers. He had other thoughts about it, but he certainly wasn’t going to say so.

He blushed and grabbed his laptop. “I’m gonna work on it at home, though…” They told each other everything, but he didn’t necessarily trust himself to be presentable as he relived some of these things about his life. He didn’t want her to see him crying or having a tantrum or tugging at his own hair to redirect his pain. He wanted privacy to dissect his heart this way. He wanted discretion. He didn’t want to look weak. You couldn’t extend to the apex by being weak.

She was looking in the mirror and admiring her face, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil he was facing by agreeing to this. He understood. He often admired her face too, though he didn’t know how to tell her that the rest of them were a little luckier… She looked even prettier in front of you than she did in her reflection. She smiled at him and squinted her eyes, “What?”

“Nothing! I’m going now. Bye.”

“Until later!” she cheered. She had no idea how hard his night was about to be. She didn’t even ask… but he also didn’t tell her...


	5. The Rich Kids

Simon handled the essay for his scholarship exactly how he thought he might. He was NOT okay, but he got the job done. He started with an introduction about why he wasn’t even sure of why he would be accepted into an institution like this school when his life was so ripe with problems, and honestly admitted that he was telling them all of this “for a girl.” He described the way that he met Grace and how important her friendship and being close to her was to him. He used that as a segway of WHY he needed a close friend, being brutally honest about the things that were happening in his life when they met and the things that he had gone through since. He put heavy emphasis on his relationship with his mother and how HE was now caring for her, even though he could see in her eyes that she didn’t care for him, at all. 

He wanted to learn from somewhere that could help him to be great. He felt like a jack of all trades, but in a kingdom of shit. He wondered if he could get away with saying shit. He went back and edited it to censor it, but to make it known that she still meant shit. He ended it out with how he didn’t seriously expect them to pick him, even with his GPA being what it was and him having skills in these areas. “But, I have to be able to let my only friend in a lonely world know that I did what I could to stay beside her. This is my best.”

Whenever he submitted it, he spent the next couple of days holed up in his room. He needed recovery time and worked on setting up a scene for his portfolio. His portfolio was turning into something he really loved. He had written pieces - generally inspired by Grace, some artwork of her in various forms, photos of his best figures and the scenes that he would put them in, and other photos from him trying his hand in photography.

He made money by doing people’s homework assignments, and charged more for special projects. But, everybody in school knew that if you wanted a quality A+ project in a hurry, Sci Fi Si was the guy to go to. He wasn’t even teased as much as he used to be. Emphasis on “as much.” And his former bullies? They were terrified to cross him again… or rather, to cross Grace. Simon kept photos of her and the two of them together as a little reminder for that group and as his daily dosage of serotonin while he was stuck at school all day without access to her.

He still was considered a nerd, had a crappy home life that made intrapersonal relationships difficult and unhealthy, meaning he wasn’t great with people and only knew the right things to say for short periods of time, and he was pretty broody and sarcastic. A lot of people didn’t like that. He definitely talked to most people like they were stupid. (Most people were) and he was pretty unapologetic in his convictions. He was like the poster boy of “If you think you’re better than everyone was a person.” He credited Grace for that, to be honest. Whenever you have somebody like that in your world and they’re not only interested in who you are but they like who you are, the rest of these peasants could suck a toe. 

Plus, he was smarter than all of them. He had written several books, though unpublished were absolutely splendid, in his opinion, and not just for his age, but period. 

Oh yeah - he was cocky. 

That was another thing people hated about him. 

But, people didn’t matter to him. He did have a secret soft spot for kids, but the ones in his neighborhood avoided him and he’d even heard the rumors that whenever he was younger he killed his kid sister. It hurt at first. It sent him into a crying rage in which he destroyed everything in his path up until the moment his mother emerged from the bathroom to “smack some sense into him.” He avoided children after that. They made him uncomfortable. He wanted the world to be a safe place for them and wanted to protect them, but he didn’t think he was cut out for stuff like that, so steering clear of them was probably best. Besides, they were just… so weak. They were frail. You had to start toughening them up way too young in order for them to be great and he just couldn’t imagine having to be that for anybody. He couldn’t do it for his sister. If she were stronger, maybe she… He programmed himself not to think about her.

Now Grace, she was great with kids, but she wasn’t super fond of them. Like, yeah, she liked to see their smiling faces and generally was able to make them smile, but she wasn’t in a rush to meet any or have any, despite the fact that her dad made her take a course to learn about sexual reproduction and teen pregnancies before letting her go to school. She was horrified to learn about that entire process, especially considering that it had not once even CROSSED her mind!

She saw two married people who had a child every day and their life was nothing she wanted to work towards and certainly nothing she wanted to accidentally catch herself up in. 

If she ever did anything like that… She’d have to go through so much getting to know and getting used to someone and that sounded like way too much work, considering she already knew somebody. She knew Simon and that by itself was a lot. Having a best friend was both everything amazing and very exhausting. Her mother told her that whenever she got ready to get married, to make sure she married her best friend, and her father had quickly interjected and corrected the woman by saying to make sure that she married somebody “equal” to her… She had a feeling from both of their moods that neither of them were that for the other. But, no worries there, because she was NEVER getting married. 

She was going to dance FOR FUN, maybe open a dance school, or some kind of school, and read books in her free time and go on adventures with Simon that they currently were too stifled to go on. She was gonna be with her best friend for the rest of her life, but not in the unfortunate situation that she saw in her parents. And she knew that Simon would agree to that, because he said that they were a team.

.

Simon set up the camera that he wasn’t actually supposed to touch, because it was his fathers and while he was away, Simon wasn’t supposed to go into the garage, but he was away and it would be months before they would see him again. That was what he was doing when he heard the notification on his computer. He presumed it was something that Grace sent him, so he rushed to check, and it wasn’t. It was the Dean… setting up an appointment… because he was accepted… He hurried to get that squared away and then called Grace to let her know.

“Yayyy! Another adventure together! I KNEW you could do it, Simon!” She cheered.

“I couldn’t have done it without your idea,” he said. 

He didn’t add, “Even if it ripped my heart out to do it that way,” and she didn’t hear it in his silence; because she replied, “I think you’ve known me long enough to know that I’ve never been wrong, ever in my life, and if I have - It. Didn’t. Happen.” He laughed a little bit. “Look forward to more outstanding quotes on a daily basis, when we’re seeing each other AT SCHOOL!” She was SO excited. She had put together as many acceptable options that fell within the dress code of the uniform but also with a little of her own flair, and she worked on getting her schedule filled. Simon had to do all of that whenever he went in. because he admitted that he didn’t really know what to do and so the administration helped him out with it. 

Simon would make the trek to Grace’s every morning and ride to the school with her in the car. Four years after meeting her, he still knew her drivers better than her parents, because they either were never around or he wasn’t over when they were. She still hadn’t seen his mother at all outside of photos and every time she saw his father (a whopping 3 times in the past 4 years), he looked different. A few more tattoos, a little more or less hair on his head or face. It was still just Grace and Simon by the time they got to the academy.

The first week of school was extremely different for both of them for different reasons...

Grace found that people were apparently “naturally drawn” to her, and in an effort to not let them down, she became very popular, very quickly. She made sure that whenever she saw Simon, she made room for him though. She’d call his name and wave him over. He hated groups of people, but she had been surrounded by them since Day 1, so he had to tolerate them. 

Sometimes, if he looked like he wasn’t okay, or if they talked about a current issue he was having on the ride over, she’d tell the others, “I’ll have to get with you all later. Today is a Simon day.” It always made him feel good. Warm inside and cozy and a little fluttery… Stuff that he became severely aware of. She caused reactions in him that he hadn’t previously experienced. He always thought that she was pretty and out together nicely and smelled really pleasant, but like, now… 

Not just his brain but other parts were starting to respond to those characteristics. And, he became dangerously aware that a lot of the other boys noticed her like that too. Know who didn’t seem aware? About any of it?? Grace.

Whenever the Fall Festival rolled around, she was the girl that everybody wanted to take to the dance, even upperclassmen. She was the girl that the girls wondered about what kind of dress she’d wear. She was the girl that the dance teacher asked if she wanted to open up the dance with a waltz. “I don’t know how to waltz,” she had said. After all of her years of dance, the teacher was stunned. She wanted to teach her before the dance. She said that she had the perfect partner to pair her with. “Oh, no no no no… I only have one person that I would be dance partners with,” she’d said. 

Simon wasn’t keen on being dragged into this, BUT it did mean that some other guy wasn’t going to be dancing with her… for now. Who knew WHO would ask her to dance at the actual dance, which he tried to convince her would be boring and that they should skip it. 

She would have loved to just go to the pumpkin patch after school, pick a few pumpkins to carve and make treats and cozy up with him for a movie night… but, she had to go to this dance! There was a lot of pressure on her to go and she was fueled by pressure and the stress of letting people down. So, the compromise here was that Simon could skip it if he wanted to, and they’d do the pumpkin patch thing the next day. “Even though I’d much rather you come to the dance with me,” she said, with a pouting face. 

And everything inside of him turned into mush. Before he could think, he’d said, “Okay,” and couldn’t take it back, because her entire face lit up and she threw her tender arms around his neck, her soft hair was against his cheek and her body was pressed too close to his. He could inhale the flowers and cupcake scents of her beauty supplies and lip gloss, and everything was warm. Too warm. Hot even. He squirmed out of her arms and said, “Yeah, yeah,” ignoring her confused face about him pulling away. It didn’t last long anyway. She credited his mood to hating stuff like school dances and moved on with life. He overheard her telling people, “Sorry, I’m going with Simon to the dance, but if I get a chance and your date doesn’t mind, I’ll save one dance, just for you.” He actually heard her say that three times before she was too far away for him to hear her anymore. 

She was always doing that. Just telling the other kids whatever she thought that they wanted to hear. He figured it was because she couldn’t tell her parents “no” and so she was just used to reflexively saying whatever kept the peace. He was like that once. But now, the last thing he did was care about what either of his parents had to say. He was never home anyway. He was always with Grace, either stashed in her room, or somewhere in town enjoying life and causing mischief. Since school started, she hadn’t been able to get out as much. She would complain about homework, which she hardly had the attention span for and Simon would simply do hers to get it done, but now that she was in school, her parents would set up social arrangements for her and other well to do kids (mostly to rub elbows or have pissing contests with their parents).

But… he had a date with Grace, and his dad was at home on leave, so he didn’t have to worry too much about having to be at home. He did have to worry about formal wear, though. He groaned as he headed for class, taking out his phone to try to see where he might find an affordable formal and how much hustling he’d have to do to obtain it.

.

One thing that Simon hated about the academy that was different about his last school was that the bullies here were far more sinister and also more protected. If he got into a fight at public school, there might be a suspension and maybe some penalty for disrupting class or something. 

If he got into a fight here, the zero tolerance violence policy would get him kicked out… and yet, and yet, and yet… that did not happen with those rich boys whose parents paid for wings of the building, and had statues, or replaced team equipment… the kinds of boys that resented him for being so close to Grace, and let him know that he didn’t belong there, every single day. The kinds of boys with the most powerful commodity in the world - money.

The first week of school, someone had asked him what his father did. He answered honestly, “He’s in the military.”

“Is he high ranking?”

“No. He served for a while, got out, but reenlisted a few years ago.”

“What about your mother?”

He answered less honestly, but close enough, “She’s a housewife.”

“How did they afford to send you here?” Just… right out of the gate, huh?

“I have a scholarship.”

“For which organization?” 

“It’s an art scholarship. The Kissington one.”

“Oh.” the ‘Oh’ was enough for him to realize that it wasn’t a good one. But, they added, for good measure, “You’re poor.” And technically… his family wasn’t really POOR. They never were short for the bills, like some of the kids he knew. There was usually food, if he made a trip to the grocer. His mom was able to stay at home, not working, receive medication, and they had a cat. So, he wasn’t rich, at all, but he wouldn’t have considered himself poor, either. 

But here, anybody who wasn’t wealthy was poor. Sure, the Laurents could afford their bills, but he was never able to do anything extra if he didn’t find odd jobs. Meanwhile, Grace sometimes couldn’t see him for a few days because her parents were hosting a politician or a royal, or she had to go overseas for a few weeks, or she just really wanted to do a spa day weekend and he simply couldn’t come along because it cost too much.

There was a group of kids that had let him know that they were “on his level.” But, he didn’t spend a lot of time around them, because he was here for Grace and he had Grace, but he was aware that everybody wanted her too. The difference was he was certain that she was just a status symbol to these people, but she was his friend. 

The teachers didn’t like him very much either. They seemed to always be suspicious of him and he couldn’t tell if it was his imagination that they weren’t as lineate about objective answers as they were with some of the other kids. He knew that he was smarter than a lot of the kids who did better than him. He KNEW he was. School was less of a hell hole whenever he would worry that he might have to fight for his life. There was something so much more unnerving about fighting something that wasn’t physical, and having the disadvantage, because he simply couldn’t add up to his peers in a lot of these people’s eyes. He knew that he was more evolved than them, but all they could see was money, and he just wasn’t made up of it like these kids.

Whenever they left school, Grace would brag about all of the compliments that she got and go on about how awesome school is and wonder how it was for him. “Are you happy?” he’d ask. 

“Yeah!” She’d said.

“School is great. I mean… you’re there. That makes it the best place” She’d look at him for a moment, like she didn’t know if she believed him, her eyes sad and suspicious, but she’d smile and change to subject to something that they both loved. It was true in a way. Whenever she was there, he forgot about his problems and just soaked her in and her followers were even nice to him in those moments. A few of the girls even admitted (or maybe lied) that he was cute. But, they weren’t together the entire time and most of the time, he was miserable. But… if she was happy… I mean, that’s why you came here, Simon, he’d remind himself. Maybe it would simply take a moment for things to become normal. 

And a few months later, after he agreed to go to a school dance with her, he knew that whatever their normal was, they weren’t in it… or it had changed. He didn’t know for sure which one, but he knew that at the moment, he wasn’t enjoying it. The snide kids. The sneaky boys. The snobby girls. The suspicious staff. He was becoming increasingly angry, and wasn’t sure if Grace was still enough to quell that. She had so much more going on than him, these days. Maybe, she didn’t need him here at all, and she just didn’t know until now. Maybe the fact that SHE had a lot of money and HE didn’t, made him anxious. He couldn’t catch up, and even though they still had their inside jokes about being “the apex” like when they were kids… he felt like she was the apex, and he would have to work extremely hard to ever truly be powerful. He would have to do more to get and have money. Being intellectually and physically superior didn’t matter if there were enemies in place who could affect your personal trajectory!

This became clearest whenever the Fall Festival came around and he finally was able to actually meet the infamous Mrs. Monroe.


	6. The Fall Festival

After her hair debacle on the train a couple of years prior, a world famous stylist for natural Afrocentric hair had been Grace's beautician. She helped her to grow her hair back, twisted it into locs and was always keeping her stylish with the hottest natural looks.

Mrs. Monroe hovered and fussed over her like she couldn’t get ready by herself, the moment all of the professionals had gone to wait for her final presentation downstairs. Grace wasn't used to that. Her mother never had time for her and even when she was expected to look her best, Mom usually didn't get involved. Grace longed for this and relished in it. She couldn't complain, even though it was stifling.

Whenever Simon came up the fire escape, Grace panicked. Her parents DID NOT know about him doing so, and she was ready to have a complete shutdown seeing him appear in the window while her mom was putting butterfly embellishments in her up-do. Simon froze, and thought about jumping off of the stairway when he saw Mrs. Monroe in there, but once the woman looked at him and smiled, he relaxed and stepped inside. “Hi, Mrs. Monroe. I’m Simon, Grace’s frie-”

“Grace has a school dance tonight, Simon,” she said, not interested in introducing herself. “I’m sure after all of this; she’ll explain to me why her fire escape is open and why a boy is using it for anything but a fire.”

“Simon is my escort, Mom,” Grace said in a voice so small that Simon didn’t even recognize it and could barely hear her. She had NEVER been this quiet in all of the years that he had known her. It was alarming, actually, but within a moment, he realized why.

Her mother stuck another butterfly into her hair, with a hard jab and Grace winced when the pin stuck her in the scalp. “I see,” the woman said.

The pageant smile that she had initially given Simon in her confusion was gone and now, a stone like grimace was there, pointed right at Grace with no warmth or emotion. “Stand.” She commanded, and Grace did so, with military-like precision. The woman led her next to Simon and stood her at his side, took a step back to assess them, then flared her nostrils and raised an eyebrow. “No.”

“But, Mom…” Grace said in that same tiny voice, this time pleading. A single look from the woman silenced her.

“Grace, I did not pay thousands of dollars to make you perfect tonight for you to ruin the entire aesthetic with this shaggy boy in a shabby suit that looks like it costs less than your earrings. I’m sure he’s nice, but do we want nice things for you, Grace?”

“No.”

“What do we want for you, Grace?”

“The best,” she said.

“Alright. Now, I’ll give you a moment to say goodnight and LOCK your fire escape, then hurry down for the pre-dance photo shoot.” Grace’s eyes welled with tears as she looked down at her hands, clasping her dress anxiously. Her mother lifted her chin with her fingertips and said in a sweet voice, but through clenched teeth, “Don’t you dare cry and ruin this makeup job, and let. Go. of. That. Dress!” When she said dress, she jerked away one of Grace’s hands with her free hand and Grace’s other hand quickly followed.

Then, Grace whimpered in her tiniest voice yet, “He’s my best friend.”

Her mother looked at her with a mixture of pity and exasperation and shook her head, “We can discuss that another time.”

Grace took a deep breath and almost magically forced away the tears trying to form in her eyes. Simon was horrified by how frightened the woman made her. What would she do to her if she told her to piss off? He wasn’t going to find out tonight, because Grace stepped in line and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, Simon.” She was using that voice that she used with people whenever she was just telling them what they wanted to hear. That was a voice she used with non-essentials, not with him... “I still want to do the whole pumpkin patch thing tomorrow, if you don’t hate me for wasting your time tonight? Maybe my parents will give you money for the train ride home.”

“I’m not going home! My suit may be shabby, but it was the best that I could do and I tried really hard to look nice for you tonight!” His voice was louder than he meant it to be and he knew that her mother could probably hear him, but he had just witnessed the worst thing to happen to him in months (which was already saying a lot) and he just didn’t understand this version of Grace that he had seen tonight.

She smiled, sadly and touched his cheek, “You DO look nice. I love it. I love that you remembered the colors for your accents, and it's very obvious to someone like me, who knows your type of fashion, that you did put a lot of work into this look. But, what I'm telling you is that there is no way that my mother is going to let you get into the car with me and head to the dance, now. I didn’t expect her to be here! But, apparently my first school dance was an event she couldn’t miss, despite missing several other things that I thought should have been pretty dang important...” She dropped her hand and sighed, “I really wanted to go with you tonight, but it can’t happen now. She made that clear to me. I’m sorry, Simon.”

She looked like she might cry again, but she quickly sucked it up and put on a smile. “We can go downstairs together. You don’t have to take the fire escape…” 

“What do they do to you? What do they do to you to make you like this? What could they possibly do for you to treat me this way?” He asked, practically pleading.

“They work hard to make sure that I have the best. It’s my responsibility to be my best for them, and they… they… know what’s best.”

“You don’t believe that, Grace! They’re one of the main reasons that we don’t trust adults!”

“Even if I don’t trust them… I have to do what they say! What else can I do? They’re not gonna just leave me alone and let me live my life. Maybe one day, Simon. Just not tonight… Not now...” Simon had tears in his eyes, but Grace was definitely disassociating.

She had to be strong, because she had to present herself to her parents, the pros who put together her look, and the photographer. She had to be perfect whenever she made her entrance. “Goodnight, Simon.” She gave him a playful tap on the cheek, strummed his face with her thumb and left him in the room alone. Simon covered his nose and mouth with both hands and started to cry.

.

The time it took Grace to smile through the photo shoot pretending that she hadn't just sliced her heart into pieces and fed them to her mother, to get the dress safely into the car, and the drive to the dance… Simon had already made it there. The school was closer to Grace's house than his house was, so he just walked. Anger and resentment fueled his pace.

When he arrived, he went to the bathroom to freshen up and get himself together. He slid into the stall with his jacket off, rolled up his sleeve and looked at his arm for a while. He drifted into a daydream.

They were 10, she was in her ballet garb and he was in his vest, shorts, socks and sandals… she was gonna "teach him a few moves," though he couldn't remember why. All he ever remembered about that day was that he couldn’t focus on a single thing that she said to him because she was standing close enough for him to be more concerned about focusing on her features and whenever she was standing behind him, trying to help him get into position, her hands were on his person and she smelled like fruit and flowers. She usually smelled of nice, expensive products and fruit scented lip gloss, but there was something else that he wasn’t as familiar with, though it was very nice. He found out later it was mango butter. She lathered herself in the stuff to moisturize. She didn’t teach him ANYTHING that day but that he wasn’t really into doing ballet, and that she was the prettiest girl that he knew. Always would be. Tonight, they were supposed to dance together again. This time, in front of people. This time… Maybe it wouldn't just be a huge failure, he thought. But, it failed before they ever even made it there. You're never going to be good enough for her.

Simon pulled down his sleeve, put his jacket back on, "You're just as good as anybody else! You're better than most of the people you've ever known!" He hissed, straightening himself out in the mirror.

Then, he went out to get some punch. There was a table of fountains with various fondues and drinks. He remembered that this was his first dance at the academy and that his former jr high bashes would pale in comparison. Everything was SO formal. It reminded him of photos of his parents at a military ball whenever they were first dating… but then add like a million dollars of decorations and stuff.

Whenever he thought about money, his mind went back to Mrs. Monroe's cold features and empty smile. The way she tore him down like he was a null and Grace just LET her.

If his parents ever so much as cut her an ugly look, he'd bludgeon them. She couldn't even tell her mother "no," for him? She'd been so beautiful in that yellow dress, with her goddess locs pulled up and twisted into a cascading bang, a halo crown and sparkling butterflies with jade jewelry and light green and gold accents in her dress, makeup, and hair. Simon didn't even know wtf chartreuse was until he had to try to find "accents" for his suit. He found a tie, a pocket square and socks! He shined his shoes, like he'd seen his father do. He watched videos to learn to tie the tie and fold the square. He'd exfoliated his skin and gelled his stray hairs to try to keep his ponytail neat!

He was sulking into another cup of punch when somebody said, "Is that Grace Monroe?" He turned and the kids made way for her. Her driver helped fix her dress for her entry. She had that fake ass smile plastered on her face, but the moment she saw Simon, it faded. Then, her real smile quickly appeared and she shuffled over to him. "You still came!" She cheered. Everyone else immediately didn't matter to her, but Simon wasn't smoothed over. He was still very much hurt.

"Your mom can control you, not me," he grunted. She put her hand on his shoulder and he looked at it before flicking it off with a harsh brush of his hand. "We're not here together, remember?"

"Obviously, I remember. But, we're still friends… Right?" She stared at the top of his head as he stared into the cup of punch. It was good. Tasted like pineapples and cream with some spritz to it… but it didn't taste good enough to help him avoid this questioning. It'd have to do for now, because there was no way he dared look up to see how she might be looking at him. The feel of her eyes upon him was heavy enough. "What can I do?" She asked in a small voice.

He glanced at her, looking down at her hands and clutching her dress. He sighed and shifted his eyesight to look at the others in the room with them, having fun without a care in the world. Meanwhile, here they were… both obviously miserable. "Nothing," he finally answered, though he didn't look at her again. "You're clearly a powerless kid, just like me. We thought we were so tough because we could win some fights with nulls and really, we're the worthless ones. Your mom proved that tonight. She could care less about specks like us. These kids treat me like I'm something they stepped in, and I can't do anything about it, because my parents can't toss money at administration if I mess up. But, if I get kicked out, my chances of being successful will decrease three quarters. I'll never be rich and powerful, no matter the fact that I deserve it. I deserve it more than anybody else in this room of fakes and flunkies! I'm smart. I'm strong. I'm fearless. I'm tactical. I deserve respect. I deserve the best, too, Grace."

"You do."

"Then why didn't you have my back!?" Now, he looked at her. He deserved an answer.

"Because… I'm… not... those things. I'm not that smart. I just know how to talk to people. I'm… not that strong. I'm just agile and can dodge a lot of danger. And, I think you saw for yourself that I'm not fearless. I'm terrified of my parents seeing any of that. Everything that I'm not. They'll lose the little bit of love that they have got for me and I can't stand to risk it. I guess I just thought that you wouldn't. That... you could take one night of my cowardice and still love me. I was wrong to expect that. You deserve better, but I'm not someone who can give you that. You were always gonna eventually do great things. I was always gonna skate by on my family name." She wiped her eye and looked at her glove to see a little makeup. "I'll leave you alone now…" She was going to go cry over this. Very uglyish and loudish… but Simon caught her wrist.

They looked at each other. Her eyes were asking him why he stopped her when she was giving him his way out, but he knew as well as she should have.. she was absolutely right. He'd love her through anything. He just wasn't going to say that. "We're supposed to open the waltz," he said. His gray eyes were soft on her and she sighed with relief and hurled herself into him for a hug. He held her. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Your mom's a monster. And she's got a ton of money. I've never seen you be afraid of anybody else and I shouldn't have attacked you about it." She was now fully crying on his shoulder. "Apex never dies."

She smiled and nodded, "We're on this wild train for life." She stood up straight and they stared at each other. Did… did she see Simon blushing? She touched his chin much like Simon had seen her mother touch hers, which momentarily gave him a little nervousness, but she said, "You know, Socks & Sandals… this outfit really makes your eyes POP! Have… have they always been green?"

"My eyes are gray," he said, blushing even more, but also looking offended.

"Thank goodness! That's what I thought they were before now…" she kept staring though. "They're prettier than I remember. Did you do something?"

"Like eye reconstruction or shapeshifting?" He asked sarcastically. She laughed and he smirked. Then, they made their way to the dance floor. Grace was in his arms most of the night. They took photos together, with "friends," and at the booth, and before dismissal, they ducked out to ditch her driver and jump on the train to head into the city.

Grace peeked into her clutch for her mask and saw several valuables that she knew weren't hers. "Simon… what is all this?" She pulled out watches and jewelry to get to her mask.

"That's stuff I found on assholes at the dance."

She looked at him a moment, like she was judging him; then they both laughed. "Please tell me that at least ONE of these items came from Shana!" He smirked and shuffled through his haul to show her a set of keys with a plushie keychain. "Are these her car keys???"

"Looks like those are all her keys. But the keychain is fruit with a face! We love fruit with a face!" Whenever they got off of the train, Simon removed the keychain and threw the keys to the wheels. He didn't have an issue with Shana, but she had made Grace her rival since the recital years ago, so that meant she was Simon's enemy… and tonight, she'd be stuck at the dance.

"It just occurred to me that a mask won't do much when the rest of me looks like this," Grace said, laughing.

"It JUST occurred to you that a face mask wouldn't hide your very conspicuous ballroom gown?"

"Shut up!" She laughed and held his hand as they ran out of the train station. Both of them stuck their tongues out and flipped the surveillance camera the bird as they did.

She didn’t want to go home. They had been going around the city for hours and she was certain that unlike when she was 10, her parents could care less if she was home, so long as she didn’t embarrass them while she was out there.

So, she and Simon waltzed at the creek in the moonlight, unintentionally inventing inside jokes, lounged around the closed mall, stole some skateboards from someone’s yard and went skateboarding at the boardwalk. Grace was much better at it than Simon, despite the fact that she had never tried before and was wearing a lengthy gown. Simon vowed that he was going to get better than her.

They made their way back to her house and Simon tampered with the lock on the fire escape to let her in. Whenever he successfully broke in she gasped and he said, “You owe me 20 dollars.”

“I did bet you 20 dollars that you couldn’t possibly break into my home…” she said.

“Yep.” He held out his hand and she put his stolen valuables in it. “This was already mine, whenever I took it.”

“Yeah, but I’m taking the 20 I owe you out of it, for having held onto your loot.”

He groaned and stuffed his pockets. “If we’d been searched or something, they would presume that stuff was somehow all yours. Me? Obvious criminal.”

“You pickpocketed like a dozen people at a school dance and just broke into my window. You are a criminal.”

“So? That doesn’t mean that they have a right to suspect me as one!” She laughed and opened the window to climb inside.

Whenever she was on the other side, she turned and smiled at Simon. “Thanks for getting me home safely, Gray Eyes.”

He blushed and she definitely could see it, even in the moonlight. “Of course. Apex sticks together.” He reached out to give her a fist bump, but she rested her hand on his fist, shut her eyes, leaned forward, puckering her lips… like she was going to… going to kiss him. It happened really quickly, so he couldn’t prepare himself properly. It landed on the corner of his mouth and he didn’t know if she meant for it to be there, on his cheek, or directly on his lips. But, he turned slightly for their lips to touch and she gave those a second kiss, then a third. Small pecks, but two on the lips and the first extremely close to them was still... a lot.

They looked at each other a moment, realized that they were holding hands now and pulled them back. “Well, that was a perfectly normal friendship kiss,” Simon said.

“Very platonic affection,” she added, fighting a smile. “We still on for the pumpkin patch tomorrow?”

He nodded and smiled as he went down the stairs and she locked up after him, then watched him skateboard away on the board he had. Gray Eyes… That had to be his favorite nickname that she’d ever randomly given him.

Grace looked down at her frazzled dress, filthy at the seam and torn and dirty in other places. She looked in the mirror, traced her fingertips across her lips that she had just so BOLDY used to kiss Simon and she laughed, climbing into bed to go to sleep without a shower or anything. He had kissed her back. She giggled about it. She giggled herself to sleep...


	7. Attack in the Pumpkin Patch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for this one include: racism, classism, and violence.

Simon arrived with a satchel and a big gym bag, but Grace was still asleep. He looked at her and the way that her makeup was a little smeared on her face, but she still looked so incredibly pretty that it just didn’t make any sense. The alarm on her phone went off while he was hovering and gawking. When her eyes opened, his eyes widened. She shut off the alarm and smiled sleepily at him, “You’re just in time for my wake up photo shoot,” she announced and handed him her phone. 

“Your… what?” 

They spent several minutes with her posing in various positions in the gown, in bed and getting up and heading for her lavatory. She let him know when it was the last one and said that she needed him to edit them and post them to her social media with the hashtags “iwokeuplikethis,” “belleoftheball,” “beautyrestchamp” and “apexbeauty." She also got him to tag everyone who had anything to do with her look the previous night with a cutesy apology that she delivered for him to type, calling out their names through the door while she washed her face and brushed her teeth, to his annoyance in trying to spell some of these people’s names or handles. He would have complained that he didn’t work for her, but Grace probably purposefully did this right now because she knew that he wasn’t going to interfere with her getting ready today.

The way that Grace simply tossed her gown onto the floor whenever she went to get ready, how she spent far more time than reasonable on her hair and hygiene, and then went through a tedious procedure to pick the perfect outfit was a level of blatant disregard that Simon was definitely used to. He brought along figures that he needed to work on and set up his workspace at her reading bench, with a drafting table that she let him stash in her huge closet, specifically for times like this. 

Simon would focus enough on his hobby that Grace's dancing around her room in a tank and boy shorts was… ignorable, while not necessarily the easiest thing in the world to turn his attention from. If I don't look, I won't stare, he'd remind himself whenever he heard her say something, sing something or do something that might elicit a glance at any other time. "Aha!" She said, grabbing her fourth attempt at a shirt selection.

If he paid attention to her, she'd milk it. If he tried to rush her, she'd slow down. Simon didn't react at all and left her to her own devices, because he had known her long enough to know that anything else would keep them in this room longer than her typical antics. "Ppbbbbbbrrrrrrrrr!" She sputtered, looking in the full body mirror. Simon glanced up and winced, immediately regretting doing so, because not only was she still not dressed, she noticed him in the reflection and smiled. He put his head back down and began vigorously painting his figure. "Simon," she called, "You're doing okay waiting, right?" 

"I am," he lied, but this time not looking up.

"Good. Because I think that none of this is working for me. It's chilly outside and I need a new fall wardrobe," she whined. "I should have gone shopping specifically for a pumpkin patch date outfit." Simon looked up at the mention of the word "date," but she had gone back into the closet and came out with an armful of clothes.

"That's it!" He said. He set his figures down to dry, slid from his seat and grabbed his new skateboard (same skateboard he stole the previous night, but now it was officially his). "We go to the pumpkin patch every year. It's not some kind of new event and I'm not waiting all day for you and missing out on stuff because you wanna be the fashionista of the pumpkin patch this year!" 

She rolled her eyes and slowly sorted through the clothes. Simon paced for a moment, then he sat back down, like she knew he would. Go by himself? Somewhere that other people would be? Simon wasn't doing that. He hated other people. And doing stuff like this wasn't fun by himself - only with her. He fumed and asked, "Could you please hurry up?"

"I'm going as fast as fashion greatness will allow! Don't you WANT me to look good?"

Simon blushed and groaned, "I don't care how you look!"

"The cuter I am, the more free stuff they give us," she reminded him.

"I get free stuff all the time and I never have to be ‘cute’ to get it," he complained.

"Noted… but, I don't feel like robbing farmers and stuff. They're nice, good people just trying to sell their wares. Now, if they GIVE me their delicious treats, that's another story. A story that starts with how cute I am. Which one?" She asked about two sweaters. Simon looked between the two, selected one and she set it down to put on the other. Joke's on her. I picked the one I didn't like as much. I know exactly how she is. Which was moot because she looked good in anything. 

It hugged her curves and fell just to her thighs and she gave herself a nod before grabbing her leggings. Simon sat by the window and looked out of it. Her locs were down again and she slid a tam hat over them and purposefully set the number of locs she wanted to hang out.

Nobody had brought up last night's kiss. He was awake all night thinking about it and what she meant by it. He’d stayed in the shower until the water was freezing, he’d laid down and stared at the ceiling, asking Samantha everything that he needed to know, “Was she just caught up in a moment? Does she actually like me? If she likes me, would she even really ever date me?...” Samantha eventually left him and he just thought more questions, vowing that the cat was a traitor that always left him whenever he needed her. She ran past his door and he jumped up. She ran the other way and he rolled his eyes and laid back down. Cats were weird… Like that kiss from Grace. Because, that was weird, right? They weren’t… like that. They were friends. The best of friends, but… friends, yeah?

He would ask her, but they didn't need to elongate her preparation time. He'd ask her at the pumpkin patch. Maybe over some pie and cider…

"All set!" She announced. “I look good, right?” He begrudgingly nodded. “Totally worth the wait!” She added. Now, he just threw her a look of disbelief and she smiled at him, already convinced that her look was worth the wait, whether or not he agreed. It wasn’t like they’d be late. He always arrived much too early to everywhere, including her place when she had to get ready.

.

Grace's driver dropped them off at the entrance and Grace let him know where and when to get her, many hours later and many miles away. She was on her third driver since her hair incident and this one she knew wouldn't last long, because he bothered her parents too much. The last one didn't touch base enough. The one before that didn't like Simon. She couldn't remember these days how she got rid of him, but not liking Simon was indeed a deal breaker for her. What if he’d told her parents about Simon? What if he’d said something that would prompt them to forbid her to see him? She didn’t think the guy would, but if he might, he had to go.

Whenever they went through the patch, she noted that Simon seemed deep in thought. "Dude, if you're thinking about student council or the cub scouts or something nerdy or pretentious, like war reenactment or your engineering grade; I'm un-dating you today." 

He furrowed his eyebrows. "We were cub scouts as little kids. It's just called a scout, now."

"That's all he heard," she said, shaking her head.

"I heard you," he said, rolling his eyes. "Addressing it seemed non-essential. All you did was make a list and throw it at me. You're not leaving me at the pumpkin patch. We do the pumpkin patch every year."

"You're just really not gonna tell me what's on your mind, then."

He opened his mouth, shut it, tilted his head in thought and said, "Last night."

"Last night? Last night was amazing! How can you think about last night and make this face?" She imitated his face but totally exaggerated it to be far more sullen than he knew he looked. He was troubled, but not like THAT. "This is the face I make when I think about last night." She smiled as big as she could smile and pointed to her smile with both of her thumbs. He couldn’t help but to laugh. “You’ve got it, now.” 

He stopped laughing and sighed, back to his broody self. “Simon, listen to me. As far as the time we spent together, as far as I’m concerned, last night was THE BEST NIGHT that we’ve ever had!” He nodded his head in agreement. “So, don’t stress yourself out. Be thankful that what started as a really crappy night, thanks to Mom, ended on such a high note!” He blushed. 

A high note. They ended the night kissing. It was small, but there was no such thing as a small kiss as a teenager with precisely one friend. She tucked her arm into his. This wasn’t necessarily new, but it felt so different to him now. It felt more romantic. It felt more emotional. He looked at Grace’s smiling face and she looked exactly the same as she always had, but she somehow looked totally different, like he was looking at her with somebody else’s eyes now… somebody in love with her and not just loving her as a friend. Oh God! Was he… in LOVE with Grace? Was that why he was so preoccupied with what that kiss meant? He’d presumed he just wanted clarity of her intentions, as to not taint the friendship or make things incomprehensible, but… He was feeling love feelings!

Within moments, she broke the physical connection and he immediately craved it, but she was rushing towards the line for a hayride, doing a jazz run and chanting, “HAYRIDE, HAYRIDE!” with her fist in the air. He laughed and followed, just running like a regular person, not some kind of pumpkin patch fairy, but also cheering, “HAYRIDE, HAYRIDE!” 

.

Later on, she got a phone call, while she was trying to stuff a handful of popcorn into Simon’s mouth, despite him playfully shoving her away. They both knew he wanted to eat out of her hand. She placed a single finger up to indicate “wait,” tossed the popcorn at his face and only a few pieces went in, while the rest slapped various parts of him. He dusted himself off while she looked at the phone, hesitant. He was going to ask who it was, but she answered, “Hi, Mom?”

She listened for a moment, then her charming voice kicked in, explaining, “Sorry about the gown, I went to this exclusive after party with the best of company and… Oh! Of course you don’t care… Sorry I. Yes mother. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Oh?” She was listening for a little while longer, then said, “Well, I have plans with Sim… uh… some friend…” Simon heard it and instantly turned red, staring at the ground with a dejected glare. “Yes, of course, I’ll be there. Yes. Thank you. I appreciate everything that you do for me.” She hung up and put her phone away, instantly noticing Simon’s change in mood. 

“After meeting her, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that that’s the way that you sign off of a phone call with her,” he said, shoving the bag of popcorn her way.

“So, good news!” She cheered, not addressing his comment, but accepting the bag of popcorn.

He looked up and she just KNEW, he was not about to let this go easily. She tried to graze over it anyway. “My mom was just setting up this video chat interview for me for later on…" He raised an eyebrow. "Apparently someone contacted her about the pics you posted this morning, and I just might become a brand ambassador for this holistic health and beauty company to tap into the teen market!" She was extremely excited for a moment, then her excitement died. "But that's stupid. It's skin and hair and makeup and fashion… Like, I'm a dancer? I'm a musician…" his face hadn't changed. "Sorry about the uh, the other thing. It's just… I mean, you've met her now. You can see how she'll act towards you…"

"So, I'm supposed to not feel it whenever you throw me under the bus to save face in front of your mom?"

"I mean… she's not important, to us, Simon. How I have to communicate with her is fake. You shouldn’t feel it. Don't worry about it." She flicked his little ponytail with her fingertips and watched him blush, but he was still glaring at her. She handed the bag of popcorn to some kid passing, and reached under Simon’s hoodie.

“What are you?...” He didn’t get to finish asking, and his widened eyes shut, though he was just as red from her reaching under as he was from her tickling him. “STOP! THAT’S NOT FUNNY, GRAAAAAYYYYEEECE!” She stopped and he fumed for a quick second, then rushed at her and began to tickle her back. She tried to jump over a pumpkin to begin running but he caught her mid jump and declared, “Tickle fight!” She squealed and laughed and fell back onto him and they both crashed to the ground. He groaned and she continued laughing. 

“Are you okay?”

“She asked, after laughing very vigorously at my pain.” She got up and held a hand out to help him up. He rubbed his back. “Who’d have thought that a tickle fight could get so rough?” They laughed and continued. 

Even later still, Simon was in line for pie, Grace was going to get the hot cider, and they were gonna meet up to have their picnic before selecting pumpkins. She went along, humming to herself and lightly dancing towards the line whenever she bumped into someone. “My bad,” she said, with a smile. 

“Is that supposed to be an apology?” He asked, roughly. She glanced around, noting that Simon was out of eye shot, and decided not to escalate, because of it. It was a big guy, older than her. She’d venture to say this was actually a grown man by his features, and he looked like two things - like one of those dudes that flew a Confederate flag from his truck, and also like he had a gun on him.

“I apologize,” she said through smiling teeth. She turned to leave and he mumbled a word at her. She still heard him clearly. Her eyes stung and she turned to glare at him, but he simply gave her a daring smirk until she left. 

Shaken up and angry, she got into the line and ordered drinks and a cup holder. She traveled back over to meet Simon, who was setting down stuff for a little picnic, but she shook her head and reached into the bag for her mask. He became alert almost immediately as she took off her sweater. “What happened?” he wondered. This was the pumpkin patch. They kind of were known here and the way that she looked, her mask wasn’t going to hide her identity today. She shook her head, angry and ready to fight as she put the mask on and picked up two of the four ciders. 

Simon had just realized that there were four ciders. She had her mask… those two ciders were weapons in her hands “Grace, your interview!” She was breathing hard when she stopped and looked at him. "Don't let someone take that away from you." He walked over to her slowly, removed the mask and took the ciders. “Tell me what happened.”

Breathing hard, she repeated the story for him and he nodded his head. She could tell that he was livid, even though he seemed to be keeping his cool. She got back into her sweater, now that she wasn’t fuming, the undershirt was nothing for this wind. “Where is he?” Simon wondered, with eyes darting around the area. She described the guy, but she didn’t see him around or anything. They sat in silence. She didn’t seem hungry anymore and Simon couldn’t enjoy himself with her like this. “Wanna go?” He asked.

“I’m Grace Monroe,” she said. “I mean… He was some null who probably barely scrapes by for a living, and he calls ME the N word?” She shook her head, “I’ve gotta get away from here. I don’t even feel comfortable here right now.” Simon nodded and packed up his bag. He handed her a leftover cider and she accepted it, but wasn’t drinking it. 

He couldn’t ask her more about the kiss and he felt kinda bad that he was even thinking about that while she was going through… something. He couldn’t really tell what she was going through. He only understood this experience in passing and from reading about it. It wasn’t really something applicable to his life, but he was guessing from her reaction that she had not had the experience herself, or she just didn’t often and it shocked her system or something. If she had ever been called that before, she'd never told him about it. She was really… upset. He hated how much. He knew that she would feel weak for it. It hurt him to watch.

They walked for a little bit longer, heading towards the exit when she stopped and narrowed her eyes. Simon looked at somebody who fit the description of the person she described earlier. He was larger than she made him seem, and he just looked extremely mean and probably violent. 

Simon passed her up, slid the cider out of her hand and beat her to the punch… or rather, the splash. Simon was so quick the man didn't know he was coming at him until the cider was in his eyes. Dude went down. Simon swung his skateboard at him and hit him with it. Grace looked around, making sure nobody saw him and picked up the bag that Simon dropped. 

Nobody seemed to notice them yet, but the guy was screaming, although, she was sure that the cider had cooled down a lot, maybe it was Simon cracking his head with that skateboard. Simon slammed the butt of it into his throat and he started coughing and gagging, but he wasn’t screaming anymore. “We gotta go, Gray Eyes,” she said. Simon nodded once, reached for her hand and she took his, smiling triumphantly as they took off running. They made it far enough away to feel okay pausing and she laughed. “Oh my god, I know you like SERIOUSLY hurt that guy!”

Simon held out his hand, smiling, “And I got you a gift.” It was a lighter. He put it in her hand and closed her hand around it. 

"Are you alright though?" She wondered, not smiling now. Simon had been vicious. She had definitely seen him mad before, but this was the most aggressive that she could remember him being and she wondered if… if it wasn't something else.

“I’m never gonna let anybody get away with making you feel bad like that. I've never seen you so upset and helpless. It was like he'd taken your power, and I had to be the one to get it back. You have too much going for you. If somebody noticed you... I don’t know what I’d do if you got into trouble.” It was partially that, partially he felt protective and possessive of her, partially he wanted her to look at him exactly the way she was right now… like he was her king.

“You’re the best friend that anybody could have… You… I’m gonna bring you home to my mom and dad. I’m gonna present you and I’m gonna DEMAND that they treat you with kindness and respect.” 

He held out his hand for hers again and she took it, and leaned in closely to him. “I don’t… know if… I want to be your friend…” Simon said. 

She frowned and nodded her head. “I definitely get that feeling… But… I think we should. I mean… I think we work really well like we are, and that we shouldn’t mess that up. People turn into boyfriend and girlfriend, then when something bad happens, they hate each other. I can’t have my one person hate me. That would hurt me more than getting caught burning some null.”

His face went through a range of emotions that she wasn’t looking at. She was avoiding seeing his face at the moment. “Are you sure it’s just that?” 

“What do you mean?” She asked and stopped walking.

“The way you talked about that racist null… Like he should’ve known better because you’re rich and he’s not. It's the way that the rich kids at the academy talk about me."

“Oh.” She shook her head, “Whenever I say stuff like that, I don’t mean YOU, ever. You were right when you said you deserve to be one of the elites. It’s not your fault that your parents don’t have as much as some of ours, just like there’s nothing I’ve done to deserve it. But, you should know that whatever is mine, anything that I have power over is yours, too, Simon. Anything that I get, I split with you, always. You’re my other half.” She intertwined their fingers and he squeezed them together. He smiled at their hands, but her face suddenly changed to one of... contempt. 

She knew that something was bothering him at school, but every time she asked him about it, he’d tell her that everything was fine and that he was glad that she was happy. She should have known that people where being mean to him. They were all just fancily built nulls, flagrantly trying to assert their dominance. Well, not over her Simon. Not on her watch. “Why aren’t we RUNNING the Academy, by now?” She asked him, flustered with thoughts of the past few months being hard on him and her... not even noticing...

“Because you’ve been playing nice and being everyone’s friend instead of showing them who you are and using them like stepping stones,” he said with a shrug. "You’ve hidden your power every time we step on campus."

“Yeah… I’m not doing that anymore. They're not gonna disrespect you as long as I exist. The Apex is taking over the Academy.” He smirked at her and she smirked back. Maybe he didn't need to have her romantically. She had a point - they were still a team, even without a title or the responsibility of romance… no, not just a team… she’d said before, and even tonight that he was "her other half." 

They were one.


	8. The Apex Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for gaslighting, bullying, mild violence

Shana had gotten into SO MUCH trouble for losing her keys that she was no longer to drive her car to school (which… she only had a permit, so she had to give up the car to a driver when she got there anyway, but it had still been pretty cool that she got to drive to school in her own car that she would be driving whenever she finally got her license). She and her clique had scoured the school trying to find her keys, and their vehicles, homes, and anywhere else that she had been. The girl was losing her mind about it… That magnified when she saw something sticking out of Grace Monroe’s bag.

“Where did you get this?” she snarled, reaching into the bag and pulling out Grace’s set of house keys. 

Grace snatched them from her hand and said, “From my mother. She likes me to have access to home and a few of her properties.”

“I meant that keychain! You didn’t have that before!” Shana fussed, folding her arms. Grace began to speak about every keychain that she had, until Shana squealed, “The Sassy Strawberry!”

“Oh, that? Simon gave it to me.”

“It’s. Mine.”

Grace furrowed her eyebrows and shook her head, “Um, no. Simon gave this to me. It’s mine. But, you could probably find one…”

Shana flared her nostrils and one of the teachers came up to the table, “Are you girls rehearsing? Because the theater is a much more appropriate place than the study hall, if you are.”

“Shana is making me feel unsafe,” Grace said, smiling at Shana. Shana clenched her fists and her teeth and stormed off. Grace shook her head and said, sorrowfully to the teacher, “My mother said that her father is being investigated for theft of trade secrets. It’s probably weighing on her, the poor thing.” The teacher’s face showed that she was interested in this rumor, but she knew better than to socialize that way with the students. Grace knew that she would bring it to other staff though and once they thought that Shana’s dad might not be looking so good for the school… Well… Whatever happened, Grace would be entertained.

Simon showed up to study hall and made a stack of books. She told him about the occurrence and he was highly amused, though she could tell that he was here for business. She let him get to his studies. Simon was in advanced classes and he still made all A’s. Grace made all A’s too, but it was MUCH harder for her. She just got so bored with everything and often spent class time reading a book instead of paying attention… which meant that by the time she reached study hall, she had the worst notes. Simon let her borrow his for classes that they had together or classes that they each took, but his notes were generally madness. He wrote his notes FOR HIM, and it was obvious, because she’d point to something and ask, “What is this.” There would be one or two words there and he’d read them. It wasn’t that she couldn’t read his handwriting. He actually wrote pretty neat for a boy. It was that those two words wouldn’t mean anything to her. Then, he’d explain and she would always wonder… How on Earth did he remember all of that crap from writing down TWO WORDS???

However, that still was an easier way of her learning than in class. For one thing, it was Simon, so she listened to him easier. For another, it was Simon, so he made the time and snapped her back to concentration whenever she zoned out. “I’m going to speak with the Dean about being a student tutor,” he said.

“Gross. Sounds WHACK. Why would you wanna do that?”

“I am already doing that, but I’m not getting any credit for it!” Simon said. That was when she realized that she may have leaned on him a little too much. Besides, he was in academic competition groups and stuff. He HAD other things he needed to do. 

Grace began sweetly asking others for help with studying. Some of the less popular and less liked girls who also did well in class were her target. They began to not only help her, but be willing to DO her work, if she needed, and Grace wasn’t one to turn down free help. In exchange, she would compliment them and tell them great things about themselves that she figured that they would never hear. 

“Grace! That bracelet is SO pretty! Where did you get it?”

“Simon gave it to me.”

“Simon is SO CUTE. You’re so lucky…” She’d simply smile. There wasn’t a need to correct anyone, as long as she and Simon knew what they were. But, with Simon’s name attached to hers, Simon started being treated a little bit differently, as well. The teachers, at least, didn’t seem to think he was the scum that they acted like he was before then. The girls had been taking a second look at him, mostly wondering what it was about him that they didn’t know. What was his secret? How did a boy like that get Grace Monroe? They not only wanted to know, but they were extremely intrigued. Girls would often invite him to things, then try to annotate that he could bring Grace too. He usually told them he’d definitely be there, but then purposefully not come, whether or not he had anything to do. That only made him seem more mysterious, which entertained him, because one of those events he skipped he was literally at home talking himself out of giving his mother Samantha’s cat food to see if she even noticed the difference, and that was the highlight of his night. But, he snapped a photo of himself, laying down with his hair free and a thoughtful face, and as suspected, the girl who invited him liked it and asked why he didn’t come over. He didn’t reply.

.

Grace and Simon were walking to her next class and making plans for the weekend whenever this really tall redhead came in between them and just started talking to her. He just… started talking, like they had been having a conversation at some point, and he was resuming it, whether or not she was available. She stopped walking and gave him a look for his audacity. He laughed and said, “Sorry, were you busy?” By that time, Simon had moved around and was standing behind her, but next to her.

“Yeah. I was,” she said, rolled her eyes and turned around.

“Bitch,” they heard. Simon flanked all the way around and was in his face very quickly, baring his teeth at him. The boy laughed, even though he was clearly uncomfortable. “Ummm… What are you gonna do, Laurent?”

“I don’t know, but I know that whatever I do will cost me everything here, so how much damage do you think I’m gonna try in the process?” 

Grace smiled and stepped between them, addressing the redhead, “Look, I don’t want Simon to ruin his future or yours today, but I definitely can’t stop him if you continue to be rude.” Her smile vanished and she said in a hard voice, “He doesn’t like that.” Simon was daring him to even make a move. 

The guy didn’t understand enough about Simon to call his bluff, luckily for him, in a way. Simon didn’t have to attack. But, everyone who saw began to spread it around, how Simon made him look like a coward, defending Grace. Kids started acting a little differently. Whenever Grace would come through, they’d be really nice to her, and she was always super nice back. Simon just seemed to be present, but always paying attention. He made some people nervous. 

Someone whispered about him being her guard dog as they passed one morning, and Grace stopped and turned around, “Who said that?” She asked. Nobody would confess, but she noticed that Simon was staring at one particular girl and so she stepped in front of her. “Hi, what’s your name? I don’t think I know you.”

“Heather.”

“Of course it is. Heather… did you… call Simon my guard dog, a moment ago?”

The girl looked nervous and shook her head. The other students watching weren’t sure what they were going to witness, but they were definitely going to witness it. She was lying. She had said it. Simon had glanced at her as the words left her lips, before she quickly stopped talking when she noticed him watching her. Grace took a deep breath and asked her, “Who does your nails, Heather?”

The girl held out her hand, warming up to Grace’s nice voice, and no sooner had she extended it did Grace bend back her fingers. Heather squealed and Grace told her, “I don’t need any guard dog, Heather.” Students gasped and Grace mushed Heather’s face. “Go to the nurse. You’re gonna need ice.” 

Simon chuckled as he and Grace fell back into step, and the hallway kids made way for them, unsure of what things could set one of them off and make something like that happen again. Meanwhile, Grace went back to speaking warmly to the ones that she liked and had rapport with and completely ignoring others. Simon was just there, with her, softly smiling at her. His arm went around her shoulder and she leaned into him and commented, “Talking about a guard dog. Bitch I’M the guard dog!”

“A common misconception,” he said, laughing, their faces practically touching. 

“I really do save you from harm entirely too much,” she fake complained. 

“That wasn’t harm. That was a girl with a bad dye job mumbling to her friend to seem cool.”

“Well… I didn’t like it!” 

.

Grace had brought Simon around her parents and told them that Simon was her best friend and explained that he was at the academy on a scholarship, but his GPA was the highest in their class and he wrote, built things… Her mother lost interest at some point, but her father had more and more questions for Simon. All he had to do was remain chill. Grace nervously wrung her hands while Mr. Monroe asked Simon more damn questions than he ever even asked HER about her life. She supposed that was because to a degree he knew everything about her life, but she didn’t like it, still. Simon spoke very highly of Grace and even credited her for things that she didn’t remember ever doing or flat out knew that she had not. Mr. Monroe seemed very pleased with each compliment. She supposed it made him feel like they were doing well. After all, they didn’t really ever have to have conversations about her. As long as she was doing everything right, they barely got involved. Her mother began scrolling on her phone. That’s how not concerned she was, both with Simon’s praise of Grace and Simon, period. 

Grace asked, nicely, “Mom, did I mention that Simon took the photos of me that got me that deal?”

“You did. What you keep forgetting to mention is why Simon was in our home that that time of morning and why you were still in the previous night’s clothes.”

“She tried to tell you that at the pumpkin patch on the phone, and you cut her off,” Simon said. The entire room went silent and Grace’s eyes went wide. He didn’t say it rudely or anything, so he was confused as to why they were looking at him like he had most definitely stepped out of line. 

“What he meant was I forgot to tell you later, because I couldn’t tell you at the time, because you were calling me about the offer. I went to an after party, after the dance and I got in late, but didn’t want to wake you. I went straight to sleep, so I was still in it whenever Simon came over the next day for our 4th annual visit to the pumpkin patch.” Simon frowned.

“At which, you didn’t bring home pumpkins.”

“She was the victim of a hate crime,” Simon said.

“WHAT?” Both of her parents said, her mother dropped her phone and sat up.

“Please stop helping me,” Grace said. Simon folded his arms and she explained, “I bumped into a man and he called me a racial charged epithet. I didn’t feel very nice afterwards, so Simon escorted me home.”

“After I had some strong words with him,” Simon said, smirking. Grace fought a smile of her own, but she REALLY wished he’d be quiet. Then again, her parents looked different. They looked concerned, but grateful. Simon had worked magic in her life again. She smiled at him.

Her mother spoke next, “Well, Simon, do you plan on taking our daughter to the Winter Ball?”

“Oh, I um…”

“Because, I’ll have to style you, you understand? You can’t be trusted to do it yourself,” she told him. Grace’s lip dropped. 

“Well, I don’t know if Grace wanted to go to the Winter Ball with me…”

“Yeah! Yes, Mom. We’re going together.”

“Great. Jerry will have to get your measurements as soon as possible.”

“Jerry?”

“The tailor,” Grace said.

He nodded. They… seemed to like him, or at least tolerate him and like the fact that he was taking care of their daughter to the best of his ability.

By Winter, Grace found herself rethinking that whole friendship thing… But, she didn’t say that. She wasn’t going to. Not even when he ran for Student Council president and won despite the fact that she was pretty sure a lot of their class did not like him. Not even when he was bringing trophies into the school. Not even when he was excelling at everything, helping to change things that he was not excelling at, spending time seemingly bonding with her dad and becoming better about shutting up whenever he was in her mom’s presence. Simon had even begun to start going on vacations with them. 

Typically, she had a caregiver, but given her age and the fact that Simon was a nice enough child that they knew was not as fortunate, they would allow him to come, as long as his parents didn’t mind, and get him to assure them that he would make sure that Grace was alright. It annoyed her that (her father) made those “little deals” with him, then he’d tip him, like a lot. Simon joked about going on trips with all those other girls at school who liked him to make bank. Grace didn’t find it funny and he wound up having to suck up to her. The fact that this was very “couplish” type behavior wasn’t lost on him, but they never brought that conversation up since the pumpkin patch. Her parents weren’t usually around them most of the time, but she would be around them more than when she was little (when she annoyed them). 

Her dad seemed to prefer Simon’s company, however. Simon had been starved for a man to like him and Grace was an only child, so she guessed that they were connecting because they were both dudes or whatever. But, during those times, if she tried to establish a connection with her mother, the woman generally seemed exhausted to have to bother with her, or only excited when it came to potential auditions or information about the beauty brand she was dealing with. It made her focus more on her arts and beauty ventures.

Simon helped her with maintaining and managing stuff, and interceding with her mom for ideas that she was too nervous to bring to her. Grace didn’t like how she seemed to be open to his ideas, convinced that her mom never would have heard her out if she had said the very same things! “I think that they’re just used to me speaking up, because I always have while you’ve always just tried to say whatever you thought that they wanted to hear,” Simon told her and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “It’s fine. What they think doesn’t matter, remember? There’s just us.”

But, it sort of felt like it was just her sometimes. She would go to the dance studio for hours, working on routines and post herself online doing choreography and climbing the social media ladder as a dancer. Sometimes, she would make music and songs and feature them with some moves. She was started to capitalize on her talents and kids at school definitely either feared or respected her, no matter what was going on at home. 

Home life wasn’t so bad. Her parents were still very aloof about her, but at least she got to talk business with them, as handling her growing online fame and her brand was a lot of work. 

They eventually hired a team, though. She saw less of them, but they always made sure to be on their best close knit and loving fakeness for appearances and interviews.

They expanded the private community, Monroe Square, and Grace became one of those faces that people saw online all of the time, some new, some worshipped, some hated out of sheer exhaustion with her popularity, but one thing was certain, she ran everything at the Academy.

.

Simon had been focused on his academic career, organizing Grace’s hectic mess of everything that she touched. That girl, sometimes he swore HAD to be doing the things that she did on purpose. Like, whenever she would toss something at a trash can that clearly wasn’t going to go in or even near it and not even look, because she knew that a lemming would rush to rectify her mistake. Or whenever she would be done with something and just toss it into the crowd and watch people scramble over it. He liked that she was bold and powerful. He hated that she was careless and messy, but if her carelessness ever caused a physical issue, everybody knew that he was her muscle. The guy wasn’t large and he was pretty thin, too. But what he lacked in size and stature, he made up for in being absolutely obsessed with taking care of Grace. 

Everyone knew that if she rationalized to him not to attack someone, because he could get into a lot of trouble, that person always mysteriously came into some trouble of their own later. It drove people a little bit angry that somebody on Simon’s “level” was matched up beside someone like Grace, giving him power and privilege that they hadn’t been previously used to him having. (It bothered some of them that Grace ever had any, if we’re being honest). But, there was nothing that you could do about it. They were just the biggest kids in school now. 

Grace got a custom lipstick color that she named Apex Red, and whenever she deemed somebody worthy of being her “friend” read follower, she’d kiss them on the cheek with it and they would be allowed to post it and call themselves members of the Apex - the name her stans co-opted because she used it as a tag so much.

People would always use the hashtags in their posts: TheQueensMark,ApexRed,IAmApex,GraceAndSimon,TheApex - if nothing else those HAD to be in the post. They could be disowned for not following some very meticulous and dedicated rules that Simon put into place in order to try to assist Grace in navigating her online fame with her school popularity and her Apex fanbase with her actually handpicked followers in her real world. He loved that she had stans, but they needed to first and foremost remember where they stood in line of reverence, somewhere beneath him. Nobody was her number one stan or biggest fan or anything similar, and one of the Apex rules was that IF you saw or heard someone suggest it was to correct them by saying that Simon actually was and half the time, they followed it up with, “You’d know that if you were a real fan.”

Sometimes, he’d watch arguments in her comments indicating that he wasn’t “a fan, but cofounder of the Apex. The Apex is Grace AND Simon! She’s the face and he’s the function!” and rebuttals saying, “Simon himself hails Grace as the head of the Apex, you null!” He would like both comments, just to be clear that he saw them and didn’t weigh in. They were both right.

Simon believed in their friendship, their love, their talents, and their power. They were the Apex, but Grace was from money so she had reach that he simply just didn’t, so, she got to be the leader and he was content to be her support. She shared everything with him, anyway. Her success, credit where he would have not taken it, popularity, money, and most importantly for him, herself. She always had time for him. He was worried when she initially began to catch on that it might go to her head and she’d leave him in the shadows, but she ALWAYS looked to see where he was and made sure that he was okay, if she didn’t insist on having him right next to her. 

Whenever they came up the school steps and everybody made way for them to come through, and the fangirls smiled and the fanboys melted, and the teachers shook their heads and rolled their eyes at how extra kids could be, Grace and Simon were always right next to each other.


	9. That's How Hope Died

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mental health issues, abuse, child death, grief

The key to having a successful “challenge” video or a hot “remix” was to have a plan proactively. Grace would have about a dozen different new choreos in mind at any given time, and she worked on beats a lot when she probably should be doing other things. She had various number outfits in mind. She had remix beats in mind and the clips of videos that she might want to add to such remixes. This was her happy getaway. The hours that she put into all of her dance training, her classical music instruments, and her academics made her feel like she earned a few to just create things that she enjoyed. And she had an outpouring of creativity from 14-16. 

Whenever a new hot song would come out, she would hear it and wonder how it might sound if she remixed it with the R747 (she named all of her creations with “stock numbers” until they became associated with a released song). She might think to herself, the choreography C929 will be perfect for this! Even her performance outfits, “And if I wear the W23… well… This is gonna be fire!” 

So, she might hear, for example, a new song by Ghairrisahn ft Fr8-Tre/in (for the old folks, that’s pronounced Garrison, ft Freight Train… See, Garrison is how it’s pronounced, but she spells it that way to stand out and well, Fr8-Tre/in’s name is Treyvon, they called him Tre growing up and you know, Freight TRE and add the “N,” sound like a play on words?) Her parents absolutely wouldn’t have listened to her explain. The hired help often had to, though, especially if they happened to be around while she was creating or putting together creations for presentation…

She would hear the song, decide and type into her phone’s notes: Shucky Ducky by Ghairrisahn ft Fr8-Tre/in. R747. C929. W23. As soon as she got home, she would check to see if any challenges or remixes of the song were released yet, because the Internet was fast and she was at school all day and sometimes, rehearsals well into the night. If it wasn’t already a thing, or if it was a thing, but the thing was null, she would make the remix of the song with her remix beat, then play it as she wore the outfit she prepped and performed the choreography she created. Then, she would post it, atting the artist, and hashtagging the song, TheApex, ApexChoreo, ApexBeauty,ShesBeautyShesGrace,Gracecore, (song title)remix and challenge, among others.

All of those would always skyrocket. Her favorite artists would always eventually see them, sometimes soon. Ghairrisahn even said that she wanted her to be in one of her videos. (Her mother was attentive to that bit of information when she shared it). 

When she called Simon to tell him, he already knew. Of course he did. That dude was always on his computer. He always had hella tabs open. He was working on maybe 4 assignments for school, at least 2 of his stories, keeping up with his favorite fandoms, and checking social media - which he hardly ever got on to talk to people that he knew in real life, but he still was entertained by many of them and usually kept watch of all of her pages, whether or not it dawned on her. 

When they were 15, she was invited on a summer tour with Ghairrisahn, to dance. It was a dream come true for her, even though her parents were very reluctant to agree to this. Filming a music video was one thing, but gallivanting across the country all summer was another thing entirely. “Mom, this would be just like if I had gotten the ballet spot in Germany!”

“No it isn’t. THAT was a world renown dance troupe and you BLEW it. THIS is some girl who sounds like she’s singing underwater, never wears a full sized blouse and almost unquestionably engages in recreational smoking.” Simon was typing on his phone. He didn’t get involved. 

“She is a Grammy award winning icon! Everybody knows her. You know who knows that dance troupe? Ballet heads. That’s who. Mom, to be successful, in this day in age isn’t just about money and high standing. It is about fame and visibility! AND, if I’m on tour, I have that many places to use my products and promote the brand and bring in revenue to the company!”

Mrs. Monroe sighed, “Alright. That sounds like a good idea. But, I’m sending you with your team. You’re not to be in the same vehicle as that marijuana girl. You’re to only interact with her and her team for business purposes and you will adhere to the schedule that your team provides.”

She clenched her fists and jumped up and down, excitedly. Simon’s eyes looked up from his phone to watch her, but he didn’t react in any other ways until she rushed over and hugged him, “We’re going on the road with Ghairrisahn!” She squealed.

He sighed and wiped a hand down his face, “Grace, I can’t go on the road with you this summer. You know I have like 6 different major things that I need to do this year.” Her face fell. “I wish I could. I love Ghairrisahn. She’s my top five celebrities whose hair I wanna smell…” Grace and her mother both made disgusted and confused faces that he ignored and kept talking, “But I literally have a major engineering program, a science camp to prepare for this upcoming school year, the journalism workshop, orientation for the early college courses path, the Dean’s meet and greet, and I’m heading some things for the scouts that I signed on to before I realized that I’d have to do some of the other things. I can’t go right now. Junior year is the most important year of my high school career. Not to mention, you know that I’m being emancipated next year. I just… I don’t have time to tag along this time, Grace.” 

She nodded her head, sadly. “Well, that’s cool. But, I mean, I’ll be able to fly you out to a show or two, right?”

He shrugged, “Send me the tour schedule when you get it, and I’ll let you know.”

“What’s your mom gonna do while you’re doing all of that?” She asked. He frowned and stared at her. She was concerned. He knew that she didn’t mean any harm. But, asking about his mother while her mother was still around was pretty inconsiderate, even for her. She must’ve realized from her face that it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Because she fell back and clasped her hands together, “Well, since we’re both still around, let’s go do something in town together. You do have a little free time right now, right?”

“Yeah,” he said defeatedly.

“Yeah,” she imitated and reached out for him with her hand to pull him up off of his favorite cushioned lounging chair. “Mom, we’re going!” Grace called. Her mother had stopped paying attention to them several minutes ago, pretty much whenever the conversation no longer concerned her. She didn’t even hear Grace excuse herself.

.

“It’s hot! Why do you ALWAYS have on a hoodie?” Grace asked.

“I don’t have one at school.”

“Because they aren’t allowed.”

“Exactly. We’re not at school. Nobody can tell me what I can and can’t wear,” he said. 

They were quiet for a moment. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but she knew that something was. “Hey, do you wanna record ourselves doing skateboard tricks?” She asked.

“Is that your way of asking me to record you doing some skateboard tricks, Grace?”

“You can do yours too!” She laughed.

“I just wanna walk right now,” he said. She bit her lip and danced alongside of him, singing Shucky Ducky. Simon looked over at her and the smile of his features returned. She was good for that. Making him feel better about things that really just didn’t feel good. After a while, some thought, letting it rush around in his head, he said, “She’s going to go live with my grandmother.” Grace stopped dancing and stared at him with wide eyes. “She refuses to go to a hospital. I can’t get dad to come home right now and I just… don’t have the time to care for her. I was gonna be gone in a few months, anyway. Leave it to her, I never did anything to even help her over these years. The story that my grandmother believes is actually quite different from the events that my mind has collected.” Grace rubbed his back, but didn’t say anything. Simon had tears welling up in his eyes. “Do you know how many times she’s taken a swing at me, and I’ve had to restrain her to keep her from connecting? How many times she’s yelled at me, berated me for innocent missteps and mistakes that children simply make? All of the times that I wanted to just put that pillow over her face and not let go until she stopped moving?” He was shaking. “Now, apparently she has bruises all over her that I supposedly put there and my grandmother just believes that I’m capable of it, because I killed my sister, why not try my mom too?” He roared at the sky and covered his face with both hands.

Grace looked around for some place to sit, and just decided on the grass under a tree. She led him over, sat him down and rested on her knees, looking at him, but not knowing what to say. He didn’t really talk much about his sister. What she knew about it was what she had looked up on news sources on the Internet (only to understand more, not to be sneaky or harm him in any way), and she never brought up what she learned, because she knew it would be very painful for him. 

According to every source that she had found, the little girl’s death was an accident. She and her brother had been playing, they got into an argument, she ran off, he gave chase, she climbed up a ladder to try to hide in the attic, he pulled her leg and she fell and hit her head. It was an accident. A freak accident. She shouldn’t have been able to die from the fall. There were a few reports that the boy had possibly “thrown her hard” to the floor, but even knowing how angry Simon could get and not actually putting it past him to accidentally get that angry, she rationalized that even still, at 10, he wouldn’t have had the strength to cause reasonable damage to a 4 year old. She wanted to tell him that right now, but he didn’t know that she knew that much about it and it seemed like it might only upset him more to find out that she looked into it.

He was red in the face, hot, breathing hard, and crying, and he didn’t want her near him or looking at him at the moment. But, there she was. Where else would she be?

“Simon, I’m so sorry that your mom… is the way that she is. But, on the bright side, she’s not gonna be your problem anymore. She’ll be your grandmother’s and I mean… that’s her daughter. Who knows what she might have done to contribute to the person that she became…” 

He looked up suddenly and stared at her in horror, “Do you think I’ll be like that? Do you think… I mean… I get so angry and I get violent, and I lash out… Do you think I’m like her? Am I gonna treat my family that way? My kid?”

Grace leaned forward to place her hands on Simon’s shoulders and said, “I think that you’re the best person I’m ever going to meet, that is of course until you have kids, because then they’ll be the best people, because you’re not going to make the same mistakes your parents did. I think for what you’ve been given, your anger and violence and lashing out is totally justified. And it isn’t like you just go around beating up the defenseless. I mean, yes, sometimes… we’re a little quick on the draw and maybe hurt somebody that probably didn’t deserve it that much, but there are actual school shooters and like… pedos and stuff out there. A kid who beats on people who deserve it every now and then, destroys some stupid property or whatever is like nothing compared to like… those types.”

“So… I’m not a good person, just not the worst,” he said.

“You’re the best person I KNOW.”

“You know like 3 people.”

“I know plenty of people!”

“Outside of your immediate family and me, name ONE.”

She stammered and he laughed a little. She was grateful for that, even if she was flustered. “The red… um… shirt… Cameron!”

“Cameron… The… guy who works at the Target right outside of the gated community?”

“Yes! See… I know people.” Now, he laughed heartily and threw his head back. 

She knew kids at school who gave her presents’ names. She would always thank them and say something nice to them about their presents, whether or not they liked them. It was a trend to give her things and IF someone noticed her using or having the thing later, they had bragging rights, though no matter what anybody gave her, she preferred anything that Simon gave her over all of them. They never understood why, but she did. She knew that their presents came from wanting her to love them. His presents came from already loving her.

“Hey… do you want to go visit her?” She asked.

“Visit who?” he wondered.

“Hope,” she said. He looked startled. He knew that he never told her his sister’s name, but now that he was calm, she was testing the waters to see how he felt about her having at least some portion of knowledge.

He whispered, “I never go there.” 

“I won’t try to force you,” she said.

After a moment, he said, “I want to…” 

His hands were shaky until Grace took them in hers and smiled up at him, “Then let’s do it. We’ll stop by a shop and get her a nice bouquet.” She let go of one of his hands and pulled the other to follow her. He still didn’t want to say more about his sister, but some part of him wished that the visit would change something inside of him. He didn’t want to think about the word “Hope,” to describe his desires. It felt wrong.

He cried a lot. Grace smoothed her hand across his back and remained quiet. After a long while, and he was seemingly out of tears, she said, “Maybe I should skip the tour. I’ll probably have opportunities like this in the future. I’m pretty hot right now.”

“You always are.” He wanted to tell her not to do that. That she deserved to go on the tour and that she should have fun, but just like when she wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to write about his family to get into the academy, he didn’t have the nerve to openly oppose what was best for him. 

What was best for him was that the one person that he could cry in front of was there for all of the summer nights that he was already certain that he would cry from stress alone. But it was up to her, just like it had been up to him to decide that he wanted to be at school with her, even if he was going to have to hurt a little to get there.

The difference was she ultimately decided that it was best that she went. He didn’t like it, but they had been apart before in the past and even if she had been in town, he was going to be constantly busy anyway. Still… he emotionally logged it as a time that she was not there for him when he needed her to be. Was it fair? Maybe not. But… it was simply how he felt about it.


	10. Simon's Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for self harm and inappropriate sexual joke content. I think that’s all in this one, actually. Happy reading, and please, if you like what you read, let me know. If you don’t, keep it moving, Shawty. Because, I’m an artist and I’m sensitive about my shit.

Simon got up fairly early every day. He fed Samantha and let her out. She came and went as she pleased, and in the times that she returned, she would come to his window and yell. He… was probably going to have to bring her with him when he left home for good. He hated to do it. He never wanted a cat, but they had bonded over having the worst mom in common and it wasn’t her fault that the person who purchased her did so on a whim. 

He had a very strict exercise regimen, breakfast schedule, and things that he did every morning before starting on his day. Whenever he left home, he usually packed what he needed, and tended to use his mother’s old car. Was he legally supposed to be driving? No. Was he teaching himself how to anyway, because he knew he would need that skill and nobody else was gonna teach him? Absolutely. 

His summer had a lot of things packed into it, but he had everything plotted out in such a way that if he followed his schedule, he would still have plenty of time to rest well and even to keep up with Grace. 

She was having a blast. "I asked Ghairrisahn if I could smell her hair to tell my friend how it smells and she gave me a piece of it! I collected YOU a gift, this time!"

"You… have… some of her hair for me???" He asked excitedly.

"She pulled it out of her hairbrush! She says that it isn't even the first time. Her hair and her feet are apparently people's favorite parts." Grace held up a little baggy with curly hair in it. "I'll keep it safe for you. In the meantime, she smells like… geranium, bergamot, frankincense and myrrh."

"I… what?"

"Geranium, bergamot, frankincense and myrrh. Those are her go to essential oils, so everything she wears is one or a combination of those and no other scents, ever, so that she doesn't smell TOO strong. But, it's nice. I actually smell her hair for myself, now. Since she’s got all these oils on her body, I just say that I’m doing it for wellness."

"So jealous," he said, with a smile. “I saw that you gave her a lipstick print. She’s Apex now!”

“She said that she’s been a fan of my videos!” She sighed, "I wish you were here."

"Me too. I miss you."

"Are you holding up okay?"

Actually, my mom had the most violent outburst whenever I tried to get her into my grandmother's car and Samantha has been gone for far longer than usual. I don't know if she's coming back, I don’t even know if she’s alive…

"I'm fine," he said and saw an incoming call… from Mr. Monroe? "I...I've gotta go."

"I'm calling you tomorrow!"

"Yes, Ma'am." she hung up and he smiled, "Mr. Monroe! I didn't plan on hearing from you..."

.

Simon was at his journalism workshop whenever Shana sat next to him. He raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "Problem?" She asked, turning to look right at him.

"Girl, leave me alone."

"Why are you so rude? Have I ever actually done you something, or do you just hate everybody that doesn't worship your girlfriend?"

"What difference does it make?" He and Grace never corrected people on the girlfriend bit. It was easier that way. They'd have to explain why they're so close and always together and never dating anyone else… like they couldn't JUST be friends? 

"You stole from me. I'd like to know why." 

"I've never stolen anything in my life. Your dad, on the other hand…" 

She gasped and he could tell from the look on her face that was a low blow. She looked like she was going to cry. "Wow. You're just as ugly as she is. I actually thought you were the nice one."

"You are the only person who's said that. Therefore, I'm going to presume that you're lying," he said, with a slight blush. People didn't often say that he was nice at all, and especially not when choices were between him and Grace - the professional people pleaser and part time peacekeeper. The number of times that she had to keep him from cracking something over somebody’s head alone was enough to warrant at least a collective “unfriendly.”

"Doesn't matter now. You're a complete asshole." He laughed at the bold declaration. It had been a while since someone dared to insult him, much less straight up call him out of his name. He didn't know if he had ever really noticed Shana before this moment. But… she and Grace had similar features. He'd heard her referred to as "Chemical Grace" before, because she straightened her hair and wore a lot of makeup and stuff (and was the only other Black girl besides a a handful of biracial ones). 

But, honestly… if Grace contoured her face, had straight hair, maybe less full lips and high cheekbones, the two of them looked a lot the same… to the point that Simon's imagination insisted that they were related.

Oooh… what if Mr. Monroe had a torrid affair once upon a time and had this daughter some months before Grace? That would explain their enmity too! 

"What are you looking at?" She asked, annoyed.

"You and Grace look like you could be sisters."

She glared at him, "I don't know if you think that we all look alike or if you just miss that dragon for whatever reason, (because you're a weirdo for genuinely liking her in the first place), but if you ever say anything that insulting to me again, all bets are off. I'm going to fuck you up, Simon."

"It was a compliment. Grace is the prettiest girl in school and you're like… a close second, on the grounds that you look like less organic her.."

"Please shut up. Why are you talking to me? Are you even allowed to do that?" She rolled her eyes, but he noticed that her skin tone changed just a little bit. He knew that look too. She was blushing. He caught Grace doing so a time or two. It didn’t look the same as whenever he did, for sure, but he definitely noticed. He smirked and texted Grace. She would be in rehearsals, but she’d see it afterwards. 

“Chemical Grace thinks I’m cute. (Smirk emoji)” 

A few short minutes later she replied, “Nothing else to do. Gotta set yourself on fire, bruh.”

He laughed and Shana looked over, but he just gave her a hard stare until she looked away, annoyed that she had even turned towards him. 

They were going to have to work together in journalism club, but he had always been surrounded by people he didn’t too much care for. At the time, he couldn’t imagine the amount of time that they might have to work together, with her being the managing editor and him being the copy editor (and photo/graphics editor, until someone else stepped up for that). 

"I still can't figure out if she's lucky or cursed to have you, but I'm sure hoping for the latter," Shana said as they walked out of the workshop, practically shoulder to shoulder. He just smirked. Her insults were… kinda fun for him. 

.

He had a couple of weeks between his engagements. Grace wanted him to fly out to meet her and fly back in a couple of weeks. She just needed him to agree and she would make sure that the tickets were purchased. He never minded accepting things from her before, but since she’d left him, things felt off for him. 

He wasn’t sure if it was because he was still a little bit hurt that she decided to go on the tour. It was a chance of a lifetime. He wouldn’t have wanted her to turn it down… but he did want that. He wanted her to be nearby and available, so that when he wasn't busy, he could have her to himself to recover from everything. 

That was no reason that he couldn’t go meet Ghairrisahn and see her shows for free for two weeks, though. So, he went!

Grace danced backup for some numbers and under the spotlight a couple of times too. Ghairrisahn praised her on the mic, hyped her up during her performances, thanked her by name at the end of each show, with the band and other important creators, and seemed to genuinely appreciate her. 

For Simon, it was like watching a shooting star go in reverse. Like… when he met her, she was beautiful, but just sitting in a crater, and he dug her out and she shot up and was flying into the night's sky. Beautiful to behold, but also… he doesn't know why he's not with her - Why they weren't one anymore. He doesn't know why she's so out of his reach now.

They clung to that old dynamic, for a few years that it wasn't working, and now, they were shooting in different directions. Where could he possibly want to go if Grace wasn't going with him? Why was it so easy for her now to go where she was going, without him? She used to… she used to wait for him. She used to shine a little less, if only to give him a moment to catch up. She used to care…

That's unfair. She still cares. She's just having fun and she deserves some fun… even if she never would have made it this far without your support. You built her a fan base from a bunch of snobby kids who wanted high school cool points into a public figure with a massive Internet presence. You took the photos that landed her a lucrative business deal at age 14. You turned her parents' heads in her direction every chance you got, just so she could be noticed by them and get a sparkle in her eyes. She owes you everything… and she won't even look at you as anything other than her favorite accessory. Something she never wants to leave home without, but if she does, she could just smile and keep dancing…

He didn't realize that he was shaking until one of Grace's team members asked him if he was okay. He nodded and then went to find some place to be alone. He took off his hoodie and pulled a dull pen from his pocket. His thoughts were racing and his emotions were such an overwhelming cluster of negativity rushing about that he almost felt immobilized by the onslaught. He sat down, lifted his arm and began to sketch. The pen scratched him, lifting the line on his skin, with minimal blood, but a few specks. He drew tally marks. There were a few older faded ones that he had counted. 

Whenever he felt hurt or weak or scared… things he couldn't say he felt. Whenever those feelings became too much. Grace had told him, "You just have gotta try to count up the good things about stuff."

"And how am I supposed to do that whenever my mind can't focus on anything but the bad stuff I'm going through?"

She made an "I don't know" sound, with the shrug of her shoulders, closed her compact mirror, looked at him with the warmest smile and said, "But, you're the smartest guy I know. You'll figure out a way to get on the path to thinking positive when your brain is mean to you." She smiled and a bird landed on her shoulder. She was petrified. "Oh my God… get… get this thing off of me Simon!" He swatted it and when it began to fly, she screamed, dropped her bag and ran. He laughed at the image as he picked up her stuff, but for that brief moment that she smiled, with an agent of nature perched on her shoulder, he got his moment of clarity. He found his way. It was her. It had been her.

Whenever he felt this way, he would center himself with a little bit of pain and just make a little mark of the good things about her that he could think of.

He hadn't done this (over her) in a while. Usually, she was the alternative medicine for hurt that his mom caused. Grace didn't hurt him very often, and the times that she did, he always made a tally to represent that she would never try to hurt him on purpose. 

That's where he began his new tally of marks. 1 She's not hurting me on purpose. 2 She doesn't know that I'm hurt and I'm not going to tell her because she needs this. 3 I'm proud of her. 4 At least I get to come along. 5 She tried to bring me with her and I had to decline. 6 She never would have left me behind on purpose. 7 It was my choice and she respected that. 8 She still loves me because she wanted me here as soon as I had time. 9 We're still the Apex…

"Simon, are you in here? They told me that you rushed off and you didn't look too good?" 10 She came to check on me as soon as she heard I wasn't okay… 

"Yeah. I just got overheated…" he said, pulling his hoodie back over himself.

"That's why I don't understand why you always wear a hoodie! It's summer and you sweat a lot! You're gonna make the bus musty."

"I'm gonna get washed up!" He opened the door and there she was, sweaty and musty herself, with full concern on her glowing features. She glanced at the pen and he put it away. "Fell outta my pocket," he said and covered the back of his neck with his hand, laughing nervously.

She doubted him for a moment. He saw the flicker of it in her eyes, but she smiled anyway, wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him along with her, "Come on, Your Ripeness." Simon wrapped an arm around her as well. He didn't feel any more distress. He wasn't overwhelmed or sad or angry. He had gotten “back on his positive path after his brain was mean to him.” He kissed her on the temple and she smiled and blushed. "What was that for?"

"For always being my best friend."

She tugged him down to kiss his temple too… since that's what they were doing tonight, she guessed. She winked at him and mused, "Back at cha, Gray Eyes." He melted against her and rested his head on the top of hers. Grace was… confused, but she just stood there, with his arms tightly wrapped around her. She didn't understand his sudden need to be affectionate, but she didn't want to interrupt it either.

.

His last night on the tour, after everyone was asleep, they snuck away, just to explore and spend time alone.

"So, guess what your dad and me discussed…"

"Ugh. You've been talking to my dad, still?"

"Um.. of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I'm not even there. What could you two possibly have to even talk about?"

"We have a lot to talk about! I'm very mature for my age and I have a good head on my shoulders."

"You head-butted someone yesterday," she reminded him.

"And I barely flinched. My head is that good...Wait…" she was already laughing at the slip of the tongue. He groaned. She was never gonna let him live that one down. "Let me finish!" He whined, laughing at himself.

"You gotta stop chillin' with my dad, Dude. He's not just an adult, but he's one of the ones that we know can't be trusted."

Mr. Monroe had been very helpful to Simon during the time while Grace was away and his parents were out of reach. Bit like a mentor, but not as warm. They did discuss Grace at times, but mostly the man had been getting him in contact with the right people to help him sort out getting emancipated and for assistance with the home front while there weren't other adults there. They didn't have heart to hearts and stuff, but he was definitely an ally, in Simon's eyes. "He's… not so bad, I think. He just doesn't understand you. But, he loves you. I mean.. I think he does. The way you made them sound is worse than they are. At least they aren't like my parents…"

She frowned. "I don't like it. It's weird that you're taking up for him, too. What have you got a crush on my dad or something?"

"… Did you seriously ask me that?"

"You're going on about how great and misunderstood he is, and I've never seen you date anybody. Maybe that's what you like. Old rich dudes that can be your sugar daddy." She stuck her tongue out and twerked a little.

He laughed, "I am by no means above doing what I gotta do with your dad, if it gets me ahead, but I think your mom would kill me." 

Grace laughed, "I would help her!" 

"Help her? How dead do you think I would need to be? Shouldn't one of you kill him too? He's the adult in this scenario! Besides, your mom wouldn't need any help. That woman could probably kill a gorilla with her bare hands."

"Well, she's always said that she can do anything she sets her mind to with the right pair of shoes." They both laughed about the image of Mrs. Monroe killing a gorilla with a pair of pumps on. Grace thought, she's WEARING the shoes, not using them and Simon thought that she definitely had in her to stab a beast to death with a high heel. 

"Talk about red bottoms," Simon said, trying to stop laughing at all of their add-ons.

"What's wrong with us? We're making jokes about my dad molesting you for money and my mom killing gorillas while staying fashionable."

"I think it poses the question, what's wrong with them?"

"Hmph. According to you, nothing."

"Not nothing, Grayyeeece… they just aren't as bad as a lot of other parents. Some of them never should have had kids." 

The tone was uncomfortable for her. Like, him talking about his parents never having kids made her feel like he was indirectly saying that he didn't like being alive and that couldn't be discussed. She wouldn't be able to handle a conversation like that. 

She smiled and said, "Anyways, what did you and your sugar daddy discuss?" 

Now, Simon's face lit up again and he smiled, "Okay, so get this… We were discussing my busy schedule and everything I have ahead of me next year and he started to candidly speak about your social media and the tour…" she groaned. She knew that her father didn't consider what she did real art. "And somehow, he got it into his mind that you'll need a man to take care of you, a hard-working one with more realistic goals…" she fumed. 

Need? A man? To take care?? Of me???

"Long story short, your dad offered to pay my college tuition, to any school that I want to go to in exchange for wooing you and being your stable man." 

She stared at him, expecting some type of twist. The gotcha or whatever. He laughed, but seemed serious. "My dad wants to pay you to try to be my boyfriend?"

"Technically, his word was to 'tame' you."

"TAME???"

"He thinks that you've blindly rushed into wild dreams and that you need a smart, strong boy to help you stabilize."

"Ugh!!! You know, he ruined my mom's career with that same line of thinking! And she had to live vicariously through me. I can't BELIEVE that he'd pay YOU for that job!" She was furious.

Simon looked offended, "Why'd you say it like that?"

"You're my friend. He expects you to just screw me over and play with my mind for some money."

"It's not THAT simple. For… an education that I work really hard to get, but still may have to settle on a scholarship that might not cover everything. An education that, if I had it, I could finally make something of myself in this world. It wasn't like he offered me a cartoon bag of cash. He offered me a future that I deeply want and need. Nothing cheap or meaningless.."

She intertwined their fingers, "Okay. Then… you'll get that."

"What do you mean?"

"He wants to give you college in exchange for making me your girlfriend, then he's about to pay for your college." 

"Are you suggesting that we officially openly pretend to be a couple instead of leaving it to mystery?"

"I'm suggesting that my father deserves for you to take every dime he's willing to pay you to manipulate me."

"I don't think that you realize that what he wants me to do is change you, and even if we could get one over on him, the act would have to last through my college career…"

"We've unofficially been a couple in people's eyes for almost that long already."

"No we haven't!"

"I am making you a counter offer. It's the very same deal as my dad's, but in this one, we stay the same, but he pays you anyway! So… be my partner, already." She held out her hand to him and he tentatively accepted it and shook it. She smiled. "We'll have to pace it, if he's expecting you to woo me. Gonna have to be a soft entrance and he'll have to notice a gradual shift."

He nodded in agreement. He knew that they were speaking about a fake relationship, but he still felt butterflies fluttering in his gut thinking about it. Being Grace's boyfriend… even if pretend… for years… There was no way that they could pull that off… but, what if it led to something? What if he could woo her, for real? Have her for real?

"Let's go be seen," she said. 

"What do you mean?"

"I'm an internet personality. If people spot us out and about this time of night, they'll talk about it. If we seem like we're trying to be secretive, they'll post about it." She took his hand and pulled him along. 

"We'll have to set some ground rules for this couple project…" he said.

She laughed, "You can set whatever rules you want. I'm doing everything that I've normally done, but I'll be letting my parents think you're my boyfriend so that you can go to school or whatever."

"It's risky. What about affection? What about if one of us finds somebody else that we like?" 

"You like somebody?"

"No. I'm just thinking about the complications to this ruse."

"You're a war buff… Just think about it like a secret identity that you have to commit to for an espionage assignment. The fate of your future depends on it, so in a way, it's a mission of life and death." His eyes twinkled at her and she smirked. He loved when she began to try to speak his language.

"I understand now," he said.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the last good one for a while. I mean, there’s some pain here, I suppose, but nothing like what’s about to happen in the next few chapters. And, I’d like to dedicate this particular one to the apex of the Mall Rats shippers @scipunk63 (Purpledragon6) and of course, my Infinity Train fandom ace boon koon @i-am-a-passenger (Pattercake).

Even the idea of going back to school after the awesome summer that she had SUCKED. She halfway had the mind to tell her parents that she’d like to go back to personal professors, but she knew that ship had sailed. With her father being up in arms about her academic career and the fact that she hadn’t yet started looking for colleges… She didn’t NEED college, and if ever she did, she’d have enough to go then, so there was no need for her to lose her mind over it like he was.

“Grace!” Ah, finally. Some good fucking company. 

Simon rushed to her and grabbed her from the ground to squeeze her into a tight hug. He immediately began talking to her about school. She sighed. They had one more weekend before school began, so she straight up just cupped her hand over his mouth and shook her head. Then, she removed her hand and eyed him suspiciously.

“What’s happened to your face?” she asked.

“What’s… happened… to it?” He repeated, confused.

“Did you do something?”

“Is this like that time you thought my eye color changed?”

“No! This is real… WAIT. Did you do your eyebrows? AND shave off your peach fuzz??” She was on the verge of laughter.

“I think it makes me look more presidential,” he said, straightening the collar of his hoodie.

She laughed, “Sir, you are the junior class president…”

“Also debate captain, academic decathlon, I have a position in journalism,” he grumbled, ‘Two actually,” and completed his list, “As well as STILL the top of our class. People won’t take me seriously if I don’t take myself seriously. That’s one thing that my dad taught me.”

“He should’ve added that they won’t take you seriously if you take yourself too seriously, because I definitely do not.”

“Rude. I shouldn't give you your welcome home present… But, I already spent money on it.”

“You… spent money on me? Simon! You KNOW that you don’t have to do that!”

“Yeah, but I wanted to, and I rarely ever do. Besides, it’s a special occasion. The Apex is back together.” He pulled a gift basket out of his bag and presented it to her. 

“This is from that fancy custom basket place near the mall!” she said. That was WAY out of Simon’s budget, but also, not returnable. “Simon!” She fussed.

“Please, just tell me that you love it.”

“I do!” She accepted it with damp eyes and a trembling lip. There was a boxed honeycomb, a bottle of honeysuckle nectar extract, and a honey bun shaped like a bear. “This is really cute, Simon. I really love it. It’s one of the best gifts you’ve ever given me.” She reached out to hug him and he went in for a kiss. She gasped and he startled, then she rested her head against his chest and he rested his face on her hair… both confused as to why the other acted that way.

.

Honey had become one of Grace’s things, because of the products she represented and her natural branding, over the summer, she’d been being called, The Internet’s Honey, and so she ran with it. Apex members were putting the little honeypot emojis in her comments, brands started sending her their honey - which she loved because she could use it for SO many health and beauty purposes, but also, she was reckless and sometimes, just wanted to eat it. Her favorite way was to eat the honeycomb, with a fancy soft cheese and some fruit - generally honeydew melon, just because there sort of was a flow of collaboration. 

Simon had commented on a post she made while she was on the road that she should do one of those ASMR eating honeycomb videos… More people liked that comment than she expected. She wasn’t planning on doing ASMR anything and thought it was such a weird thing for Simon, of all people to comment on a post of hers! But, even though she wasn’t going to do one of those at this point in time - she just felt weird about all of her followers watching her eat, even if it was trendy - she still ate around Simon, and on their calls he kept asking her to do the honeycomb thing.

“What is with you, Dude?”

He blushed a lot and shook his head, “I just like it. There’s something soothing about watching you eat and it’s something you love, and I really like the sound, too.” 

She gave him a look but reached for her snacking sack and looked through it. “I’ve got mostly fruit snacks in this thing. Ummm… some dried mango, banana, pineapple… a jar of country peach preserves…”

“Are the preserves chunky?”

She examined the jar, “There are pretty big peach pieces in here, actually.” She looked at the anticipation on his face and wondered, “What, you expect me to just eat this with my hands? I definitely don’t have a spoon in here,” she glanced around the hotel she was staying in.

“What’s wrong with eating with your fingers?” he wondered.

“It’s messy! Then, I’ll have to suck my fingers, and this is already weird enough, Simon. What… is this gonna do for you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know, it’s relaxing, and you’re just usually the person who helps me relax the most.”

“The anticipation of school got you riled up?”

“The anticipation of things with your dad.” he sighed. 

She nodded, “He stresses me out too.” She laughed at herself, shook her head and said, “Fine, fine. I guess… here I am eating peach preserves out of a jar, with my fingers, for my best friend.”

“It’s a show of love,” he said, as he began recording her on their video call.

Presently, she asked him, “Are you gonna wanna watch me eat the contents of this gift?”

“Very intently.” She laughed. She didn’t get it, but also… It did seem to help him out the times she’d done so on his calls, and it didn’t seem sexual or anything.

Over the weekend, he was with her at the house. Her parents were away, and most likely wouldn’t be back until the week after school began. That meant that Simon would be spending every night that they weren’t there with her. She didn’t want to stay in the house, either. Especially if they were going to be milking the boyfriend/girlfriend thing. She wanted to be out and about with him, maybe cause some trouble, do some secret destroying. 

He was perfectly content to just stay inside, just the two of them, because they hadn’t been able to be that way for a while. Of course, her desires won out. They went to the mall that evening. It was only open for a few more hours, but they loved the mall. They used to frequent it and were actually banned from a few stores, but they hadn’t been in a while and she wanted a corn dog from the Corn Dog Express. 

She generally didn’t have any pockets, and Simon generally had several large ones (some with buttons), so he always carried her wallet and whenever they (she) bought something, he usually handed over the card. She thought about carrying a fanny pack, because it latched on to you, but she just couldn’t rectify the thought with the fact that those things were hideous. Maybe if she were trapped in uncivilized society...

So, whenever they got to the Corn Dog Express and ordered, she turned to look at him when they were given the total. “I… don’t have it..” Simon told her. She furrowed her eyebrows and patted herself down. Did she… forget her wallet? And her cell phone?? The clerk looked annoyed while Grace looked worried. She could have sworn that she picked them up on their way out of the door..

“Did you two really order all of this without any money?”

“Chill out. She may have forgotten her wallet. It happens.” Simon said, annoyed at the guy’s tone. He went to the back and Simon heard him say that there was “some Black girl out there trying to scam” them. He immediately was not pleased with that, and he saw from Grace’s face that she’d heard it too. 

“Let’s just go,” she said, softly. “I should’ve been more attentive.”

“Mmhmm,” Simon said, but he didn’t budge, save to pull out his phone. 

She made a sad face. She really wanted the dogs. “Simon? Did you hear me? I left my wallet at home, not to mention my cell phone. No need for me to further embarrass myself. I don’t even think we’ll have time to go get it and come back before the mall closes.” 

But whenever the clerk came back with the manager with him, Simon began announcing, “This null who works at the Corn Dog Express just described Grace Monroe, of the Monroe Square Monroes, as ‘this Black chick trying to scam them.’ Scam them. At the Corn Dog Express. In the mall. That’s it. That’s the entire post.” 

Grace covered her mouth and said, “Umm… Simon…” She was actually even more embarrassed, because obviously, these people didn’t know her. They weren’t her target audience, probably had only seen her family name on the plaques of buildings, and she really just wanted to go.

“You are fucking lucky that I don’t make you bob for corn dogs in that hot grease, you…” Grace pulled Simon’s arm and called his name. “You fucking short sighted, beast faced, insignificant little prick. She could buy this entire mall, never touch it again and STILL be above you. Who do you think you are?” The clerk was grateful that they had a plastic display between him and Simon. He looked terrified and the manager was confused but trying to speak on behalf of the company that they didn’t intend to upset Ms. Monroe... 

“Simon! Can we PLEASE. Just. Go?” He looked over and she had her fists clenched and she was shaking. He didn’t know if she was mad or sad… or what. It was unclear, but she was asking for them to go. That was clear.

“Are you sure?” he asked her, an eyebrow raised. He had been two seconds away from hopping the counter after this guy.

“I’m positive,” she said, through her teeth, tugging him by the sleeve to come with her. He knocked over everything on the counter, with purpose, looking right into the eyes of his target of anger as they passed it. “Sorry,” she told the workers. She would make sure that they were compensated for that entire scene.

Simon was casually on his phone as she dragged him outside of the mall and whenever they got to the parking lot, he said, “Posted it! We’ll let the Apex at him, now.” She groaned and released him with a shove of the hand she had been clutching his sleeve with.

“What?” He asked.

“Simon… I left my wallet at home. That experience was because of MY mistake, and you just attacked that guy like he was some kind of enemy combatant.”

“He was very rude to you and I didn’t like his tone when he spoke about you. I was defending you. How is that a problem?”

“Because, I have a reputation, Simon! I have a brand. An image! I can’t just go around slapping things off of counters whenever I can’t pay the man at the counter! People SAW us! Some looked like they were recording!” She was highly upset. “You… are gonna go to college, get a degree, build a career. You have several talents and intelligence and pathways. I’ve got THIS, Simon. MY future is nested inside of my personality, and the world can’t think that I’m this person that goes off on people like a rotten brat. I can’t believe that you would put me in something like this!”

“I thought we were in this together. The Apex sticks together.”

“I wish you would’ve stuck with me when I was asking you to leave!” 

He ran his hands through his hanging strands of hair and shook his head, “I thought you’d be happy. You used to love when I defended you.”

“We’re not kids anymore, Simon! You can’t DO THAT to people!” she snapped and walked off, hugging herself. “You can’t do that to people,” she said softly and sniffled. Where the hell was she going? He followed her, silently. He had already apologized. Why wasn’t she… doing something to make him feel better about her being upset with him?

“Okay. I’ll follow your lead, Grace. I won’t react next time unless you tell me to.” 

She looked at him. She seemed like she wanted to say more to him, but she just gave him a small smile and collected him by his hoodie string. “Let’s just go home and order in. We can watch one of your fantasy movies, or something.” he still looked nervous, like he was worried that she was still mad. She… didn’t ever get mad at him and she was realizing this as she watched him process how she’d just yelled at him in this public space. “That okay with you, Eyebrows?” he chuckled and wrapped an arm around her with a single nod. 

Still… They both felt it. Something just wasn’t right between them.

.

It blew up. Of course it did. What started with Simon’s post generating a massive amount of hate at the Corn Dog Express and the employees there, spiraled into Apex stans making death threats, doxxing these people, and harassing their family members. Grace went live several times to remind them not to do this and to explain that it was indeed her fault that she couldn’t pay because she left her wallet, and assuring fans that she paid after the fact and held no hostility for the staff there. 

“I am demanding that the real Apex stand down this time. I’m human. I made a mistake. Yes, the clerk could have been nicer, but I don’t know what kind of day he had or what’s happened to him before. I didn’t take it personally. Simon is a little bit more sensitive about these things happening to me and he got upset and tried to defend me. We’ve talked about it. We’re on the same page. Please leave that guy alone, Apex. Come on. Listen to your Honey.” 

With the incident going viral, in those comments appeared a very aggressive woman who wanted to draw people’s attention to her post from a few years prior. It was a post where she cried on camera, showed off bruises and described two kids that beat her up on the train. 

Grace gasped whenever she noticed her. Apex members were cussing her out and accusing her of lying, but she was claiming that she even tore out a handful of the girl’s hair and that she was POSITIVE that it was the girl in this video, and she knew that Simon was the same boy, because he looked exactly the same, but longer. She meant taller, and Grace hadn’t thought about that woman in almost as much time since her hair grew back.But, she definitely recognized her whenever she went to her profile.

Then Shana’s little bitch ass comes in to comment, “Actually, I very clearly remember her showing up in society with a shaved head around that time, so I believe you. They call her the Internet’s Honey, but she’s actually a violent, destructive sociopath and I hope that you get your justice.”

Grace’s head was spinning. She didn’t know what to do with bad publicity and this felt like it was a lot. Should she call her mom? Her mom would kill her! 

She saw Simon arguing with Shana in the comments, “Do you realize that whenever Grace went natural we were 12? You’re going to believe this stranger when she says that unprovoked Grace and I just beat her up for no reason? I know you’re a jerk, but I thought you were smart.”

The woman fussed, “You put me in a choke hold and crushed my esophagus while she punched me in the ribs and stomach!”

“Prove it, null,” Simon almost instantly typed.

“I still have her hair!”

“And what? You think that your lawyers are going to be able to demand that she release a sample to check it against the hair that your nasty ass has been carrying around for god knows how long? FOH. You deserved to be thrown to the wheels of the train and you got off easy, Jealous Null. You’re jealous of her. Every hater is jealous. Shana certainly is. She’d say anything to try to look better, since the hair weave and makeup doesn’t help.”

“If it doesn’t help, how come you think I’m almost as pretty as her?”

Grace waited for Simon to respond, but instead, she watched as both Shana’s and the woman’s comments vanished… Simon had obviously signed into her account and blocked them. She was both relieved and upset. 

This was EXACTLY the kind of thing that she wanted him to not do on her behalf. She started crying. Moments later, he was calling. “Hey… I spoke with your dad. They’re gonna take care of it, okay?”

“What? What did you say?”

“I said that a woman who attacked you a few years ago on the train is claiming that we beat her up, when we actually defended you against her and I gave him the time and date and train, in case they need to go back and check out the surveillance. If it still exists.”

“What?? My parents can’t know that I got into a fight on the train, Simon!”

“You defended yourself on the train. We were 12. That was a grown ass woman and she hit you first.” There was silence. “Grace, please don’t tell me that you’re mad at me again for fixing the problem for you?”

“No,” but she was frustrated about all of this. “I just… My dad… how did he sound?”

“He said he was pleased that I thought to call him.”

“I just don’t want them to be disappointed in me. I don’t want to hurt them like that, and I don’t want them to hurt me.”

“They won’t.” He heard her sniffling on the other end of the calling as she read the comments. “I’m coming over.”

“We’ve got school in the morning.”

“Yeah, which we would’ve rode together to anyway.”

“Simon…”

“You don’t need me?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then, I’m on my way.

Grace cried a lot, curled up in a ball in Simon’s lap. It wasn’t their usual. She didn’t generally come to him with things. She cried on her own, but since he had insisted on being there and insisted on holding her, that’s where she landed and she had to admit that it wasn’t bad, at all. He had told her father that he was going to keep her company and make sure she was safe and sound all night and her father had advised them both to go to school the following day and if anyone asked anything about that woman and her accusations to tell them that they are not at liberty to speak about it.

Grace just hoped that this weekend was not some indication of what type of school year that they might have. She woke up to see Simon climbing out of her bed, shirtless? When did he take off his shirt? Probably in the middle of the night, because he was always hot and always in long sleeves. She had never seen his physique before, that she could remember. Even when they went swimming, he generally wore a wetsuit that was tight fitting, but still covered up everything. He heard her gasp and he jumped and looked at her. “Simon, what happened to your arm?” She asked, climbing out of bed to rush to him. “… Did your mom do this to you?” She wondered, touching his faded tally marks. 

He quickly grabbed his undershirt and said, “I won’t like to talk about this.” She bit her lip and wished that she could help him somehow. He smiled softly and kissed her on the forehead, “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. Just… If you need me today, say the word.”

“What should I even say?”

He thought for a while, “Say, charge.”

She laughed, “Are you gonna charge?”

“If you say charge, somebody is getting messed up.” She laughed lightly. She needed his sense of humor.

“I’m not saying charge, Dude. The way that the Internet has reacted to me telling you NOT to do something? I say charge and they’ll crucify me. My mom’s gonna wind up taking over my social media again.” She rolled her eyes and went for her uniform.

“A signal, then. I need to know when you need me to attack.”

“Simon,” she laughed. “I don’t ever need you to attack. Remember that you’ve got college courses starting this year and college is like super important to you?”

“You’re super important to me too,” he confessed, casually.

Soon, they were dressed, out the door, and heading for the campus. More kids were around outside than typically and Simon knew that it was because they were all waiting for them to arrive. He met Grace at her door and helped her out of the car. They checked each other out, gave a nod to each other that both were good to go, and turned at the same time to walk into the school. 

Simon was confident. He had nothing to be ashamed of. Grace had gotten upset over the weekend, but he had done nothing wrong and she was clearly just stressed out, because last night, she’d let him comfort her and be her support system. She had let him hold her and wipe her tears and lift her up. She had let him back in. He was confident that the Apex was going to become stronger than ever before, and keep growing. They stopped at the stop of the stairs and she leaned on his shoulder. A couple of the boys that Grace had kissed on the cheek the previous year rushed to grab the doors for them and the other present Apex kids gathered behind them, following them inside when they went into the building.


	12. The Apex is Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter of this story at a whopping 6819 words. I hated making a chapter that long for this fic in this fandom, but like... I just couldn’t break it anywhere that I thought about. So, sorry about that bit, folks. I don’t know if anything here is necessarily triggering, mostly just sort of sad and troubling.

The Monroes did not appreciate the amount of retroactive damage control that they had to do behind Grace’s former behavior, however. As it was, they did spin the story in order to paint Grace as a girl who felt threatened and needed to defend herself. They were mostly disappointed that she lied to them and that her lies weren’t buried. If she was going to lie, she could have at least made sure that it never saw the light of day! Her mother wasn’t currently speaking to her and her father was being as extreme in his rules as ever before. She had embarrassed them. She embarrassed them at the Corn Dog Express, and CERTAINLY when the assault allegations arose. She didn’t see the need to point out that the first was actually Simon, not her, because her mother had been very vocal about how stupid it was to leave her wallet behind, “As though Simon ever has money!”

It wasn’t worth explaining to her that Simon usually carried her small items in his pockets when they were together and she had presumed that he had her wallet. It wasn’t worth speaking at all, because her mother was so infuriated with her that after she completed her obligatory bitching about things, she began her unscheduled silent treatment. Nothing that Grace would say would matter until Mrs. Monroe deemed her worthy of regaining her attention. 10 year old grace would have fallen apart. Soon to be 16 year old Grace just took her verbal berating with a grain of salt and the mental note that Simon was on her shitlist. 

Their birthdays weren’t too far from each other’s. Simon’s fell towards the end of August and hers was about a month later, so they generally combined birthday efforts, and this year, they were turning 16. That meant a lot of big things for Simon. He was going to be liberated from his parent’s guardianship, he had his permit and only needed to take a test for his license, he would be old enough to work a real job, and all of those combined things meant that he would legally be an adult. This is extremely important to him. 

Children had no power. They couldn’t make money. They couldn’t legally drive. They couldn’t find a home and live by their own rules. It was an excruciating reality, and no matter how much he tried to prove his worth in the real world, as long as he had no legality to his adulthood, people didn’t take him as seriously as they should have. He didn’t like that. This was the first birthday that he was looking forward to since his childhood. 

Grace wasn’t as stoked about hers. She was so disinterested that she wanted them to have their birthday party closer to his birthday, instead. Her mother absolutely shot that idea down. She was going to have a very big and deliberate Sweet 16 party and was going to invite every single famous person that she now knew, along with the most upstanding students at the academy, and the children of politicians and entrepreneurs that the Monroes respected and valued. Simon didn’t mind waiting a month for a party like that, at all. Plus, it would give him time to maybe gather up the nerve to ask her out, officially. Her birthday was technically September 23 at 6:45 am, but the party was on Saturday the 22, and would still be happening at Midnight, which would be considered her birth date. So, he wanted to ask her then. He wanted to get her a gift. Not to add to her hope chest like all of her tribute trinkets, but something that would show that she was his. He had ideas for years. A lot of them, very expensive, ergo impossible. Some of them, complicated, ergo improbable. He wanted to do something that he had the power or skill to do, that was also a worthy offering to her of himself and his emotions, and still have it be something that she would also enjoy.

He was fortunate that as her long term right hand, he had the power of the Apex on his side. The rich kids at school who lived for her were more than willing to contribute to his cause and her girl sect went above and beyond being helpful in arranging things and assisting in his planning process. The main mission was complete secrecy. He didn’t want anyone involved to speak with anyone else about their role or donation. He wanted it to be a surprise to her and everyone else. He wanted to woo her in the most memorable way and to create something so magnificent that there wouldn’t be a single doubt in her mind that here was a man who wanted her more than anything. He smiled to himself thinking about his elaborate gesture.

“What are you smiling about?” She asked, looking up from her book. He blushed, thinking about her wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips, then looking at him with love in her eyes, ready to be everything to him. “Simon, really. What the heck are you thinking about right now?”

“Being happy,” he said. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him suspiciously. “What are you thinking?”

“That I have never heard my Simon speak about being happy in the almost 6 years that I’ve known him, so you’re obviously one of his little figures, but life size and able to communicate… and I don’t doubt that Simon has the smarts to create such a thing, but the funding… I’d be confused on where he got the funding.” He let out a little chuckle and leaned back in his seat. He was working on his assignment again, but he was still smiling to himself. Weird.

That wasn’t the only weird thing that he did lately. He began to keep himself up more. It wasn’t that he didn’t take care of himself, but he was more of a functional, hygienic than the extra care that he was now taking into stuff like his eyebrows and fingernails. He used to just either let them grow out of sheer apathy, clip them out of annoyance that he’d let them get too long, or chipped them in his day to day and bit off the crooked parts when he did. Now, he seemed like he was giving himself manicures. His nails looked healthy and cared for. His cuticles seemed nourished and smooth. And he smelled amazing now. Like, not like he picked up whatever antiperspirant was cheapest when he passed the aisle, but like he was making attempts to be fresh and clean and… attractive! “OH MY GOD, YOU’VE got a crush on somebody!” she said.

She saw a shimmer in his gray eyes and she laughed and looked around. “Who is it? I know that she’s Apex. You’d never look twice at a null. BUT… I have no idea what your type is. I remember whenever you would get all clammy whenever that redhead girl came around.”

“What? No I didn't. I would always get nauseated, because she always had on so much perfume that it unsettled my stomach and made me feel like I’d break out in hives.”

“So… not her, then.” She studied around the campus. “I’m gonna find out who she is.”

“What will you say to her?” He asked, and rested his tongue on his upper canines as he smiled at her.

“Hi, I’m Grace. I’m sure you know me as one half of Grace and Simon, also known as The Apex. I’m here to tell you that it’s your lucky day, because Simon himself has his eyes set on you. I strongly recommend that you give him a chance. I can’t make you, but it would really be in your best interest, because he’s an amazing guy… And if you hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you. Hahaha… Just Kidding! Unless you hurt him, and then I’m not.” 

He started laughing and something settled in his eyes as he looked at her. She stopped smiling, slowly, and collected her things, “I should get to dance so that I'll have enough time to tie these locs up. Are you… gonna tell her, ever? Or, is it just something that you like having in your mind for nobody else to taint?”

“Will you stop looking for her if I answer this?”

“Scouts honor.”

“You’re not a scout.”

“Half of me is,” she said and gestured towards him. He laughed again. This was the cheeriest that Simon had been.

“Okay, well… I’m definitely going to eventually speak to her about it.” His smile was very warm and he looked… genuinely happy. Like, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him so much so, not even when they were doing great fun things together. It was like he had some sort of peace that he found. She HOPED that she wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

“Well… What if… she’s not interested in you?” She asked, trying not to look right at him as she asked.

“Wouldn’t it be in her best interest to give me a chance, since I’m such an amazing guy?” He asked back, still smiling, still content.

“I did say that.” She nodded her head. “And I did mean it, but what if… she doesn’t, you know, think of you in THAT way?” Now, his smile faltered and he thought for a while. She wondered if he was registering what she was trying to go around saying.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he asked, concerned. She moved her legs nervously, dancing around and he stood up, grabbing his things to walk with her. “What’s wrong with me?” He asked.

She shook her head, “Nothing. But, what if… well… what if she’s like me?” He looked confused. “Like… What if she never thinks about stuff like that? What if she once kissed the person that she loved more than anything and it only registered to her as something soft and wonderful… but nothing like the way that people describe kisses are supposed to be? What if she thinks that you’re the best thing on earth, but… she just doesn’t feel certain things? Would you still want her, if she can’t want you in the same way?”

“Are you… coming out as something, Grace?”

“I guess so. I’m just… I guess with you moving on to other relationships, I’m wondering where I stand.”

“There will never be anyone that comes before you…”

“That’s a bad start, if you like somebody else, Simon. But, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I know that you have certain feelings. I’ve seen it. I don’t have those. Someday, when our friendship isn’t enough to fulfill your connection with someone, I guess, I’m wondering if you think that somebody like you would be able to connect with somebody like me… when I can’t reciprocate everything.”

“Are you… Like… Asexual?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve never had to think about it before. The only guy that I’ve ever been close to has always been my best friend. I’m just warning you. Fake relationship that we’re having in front of my dad aside, you should ask yourself if you would still want this girl if she was… like me.” 

“I would… I do,” he said nodding his head.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t have to think about it. I’d want you, no matter what.”

She playfully elbowed him, “You mean “her.” 

He caught her elbow and her attention when he did so. “Could you? Being… the way you are? Do you want to have somebody who wants you?”

“I don’t want to be alone, and I have feelings, if that’s what you're asking. Just… not the ones that people our age tend to seek out. I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be… But, I already have that. I guess it just now occurred to me that getting older maybe means losing that, because you’ll eventually want and need more, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to deliver what needs you might have. Or the next person. Or the next...” Her eyes were a little damp. 

Simon heard what she said, and it even made sense to him on some level. However, looking at her, with the school approved scarf tying her locs up and forward, her face all natural and flawless, save the tears trying to form in her eyes, and her long, perfect legs bouncing nervously just thinking about losing him… What she was saying just didn’t really matter to him. It couldn’t matter. What she was saying meant that he might have to move on from his soul mate. He didn’t WANT to hear that part. He heard the part that did matter to him.

I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. She sank into his side, as usual and they kept walking.

.

The number 16 was lit up in the sky with fireworks. It was set to be there all night. If it began to fade, the paid pyrotechnician would release another. The attire was “Heavenly Extravaganza,” and they were calling it her “Celestial Sixteen,” instead of “sweet.” All of the hired help were dressed in white, silver, and gold gaudy Victorian styled costume, and Mrs. Monroe literally had a set built in their ballroom, to have a tower upon which she and Mr. Monroe could sit on “heavenly thrones.” Her Queen of Heaven outfit was much like something you might see in a very high budget film about a royal queen, and her husband’s suit matched. The Monroes and Simon were dressed in gold, with jewelry and sparkles.

Grace and Simon had both been taken to a styling center. Their outfits, hair, body, and things that Simon wouldn’t have even thought about were all surrendered to Mrs. Monroe’s team of professionals to have them be flawless for their entry. Simon was listed as Grace’s escort, but her mother had worked very hard to make sure that they had the matching attire she had for this vision of hers, and that there was no possibility that they forgot to do anything, if left to get themselves ready. Grace was more used to this than Simon was (even for the school dances that he always attended with Grace, he was styled, but generally took care of himself besides that). He didn’t usually have to do a spa day and detox, and sophisticated beauty treatments. He liked it though. 

Simon felt like a king. Grace felt like a doll.

She hated these appointments. Sure, she felt wonderful afterwards, but that was typically short lived once she had to get prepared by the team. She was pressed into a dress and standing for the time it took to steam it to be certain that there were no wrinkles, then getting placed into the vehicle - tonight a white limousine covered in bling crystals, and driven to the estate, where all of her Apex fans would be clustered outside, but barricaded (Simon convinced her mother to sell tickets to stand outside of the property and watch Grace come down the red carpet).

The sun had not yet set and Grace could see countless faces that had no real characteristics, except for lipstick prints on their faces that they had their friends kiss on or drew on themselves or something, in varying degrees of red (none of which were Apex Red), and inexpensive formal attire. She was much better at remembering attire than faces, and she didn’t know any of these fans, so it was lipstick marks and public school prom gowns that she and Simon walked down, towards the party, where Apex members that Simon hand selected were allowed to stand on the sides and receive them without barricades (guards were nearby). 

Simon felt like royalty. Grace felt like a spectacle.

Simon had been to Monroe events before. This topped everything! Mrs. Monroe had allowed him to collaborate with stylists on his attire, and they customized things based upon some of his wishes and on the design of Grace’s gown. He was allowed to be behind the scenes and work with planners for various details and things. 

Grace hadn’t been the least bit interested. She never was and quite frankly was a little annoyed that Simon was so into it, but she didn’t press too hard, since she knew he liked setting up scenes for his figures and stuff and guessed that this was all similar for him. She ragged on him about it a little bit, but got bored with it, since he paid her very little attention.

After that, she spent the party planning time writing music and working on songs. Mrs. Monroe wanted her to learn a dance for the party, but she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Simon and I can just do the waltz we did freshman year.” Simon looked at her like she was out of her mind.

“I don’t remember that dance!” he said, laughing uneasy.

“I didn’t say Simon and you, I said you need to learn a dance,” Mrs. Monroe told her. Grace had her tongue stuck out, thinking as she wrote down notes on sheet paper and hummed, with her mother and Simon’s voices barely registering to her. “Grace!” She snapped her head up and the woman shook her own head and said, “Simon, handle her,” before walking off, heels clacking on the floor. 

Grace laughed and imitated in her exaggerated British accent that she used to mock her mother, “Simon, handle her.” But, Simon didn’t laugh along or join in. Instead, he clasped his hands together and bit his lip. “Oh, what? Don’t tell me that you’re about to start sticking up for my mom, too?”

“Noooo… But, the party is very important. Your dad worked really hard to fix the incidents surrounding your name…”

“Which were brought on by your explosion in the mall…” She reminded him. He bypassed the reminder.

“And now, we have to focus on the leader of the Apex being worshiped, and your reputation being restored. You said that your image is important to you. Your mom is literally bringing your image into the heavens. Have you SEEN the Black Madonna piece she had made from her delivery photo?”

“That wasn’t a delivery photo. I was days old when they did that photo shoot. A team made her look like a beautiful glowing new mother. There ARE no delivery photos, because she, and I quote, “Actually somehow looked ugly while ruining her body with my arrival and didn’t want anyone in the world, not even me to ever see her less than stunning.” She destroyed photos from the actual birth.”

“Okay… But, did you see the artwork?”

“I see that you seem to be trusting the adults. We don’t trust adults. We don’t listen to our parents.”

“You listen to your parents all the time!”

“I mean, yeah, when I have to, but like… YOU don’t have to!”

He sighed and sat down next to her. “You’re about to be an adult, Grace.”

“Hell no, I’m not. I’m about to be 16, and instead of doing some cool shit with my best friend, I’m gonna be hosting a knock off Met Gala with literally a ballroom FULL of strangers. I don’t know any of the people on the guest list, and I certainly don’t know people who were exploited by you and my mom just to see me get out of a shiny ass limo and walk.” She tossed her music book aside and touched his ponytail, “Wouldn’t you rather we went through the motions, then got out of the limo, gave the kids on the sidelines their little tickets’ worth, then I just kick off my shoes and we take off running to go camping in the woods and play Chubby Bunny?”

He scoffed and threw his head back. “So, whenever I try to defend your honor, we’re not kids anymore, but whenever I try to help fix your image that you blame me for messing up, then you want to be 12 again?”

“No, when you react violently to a simple mistake, that’s childish to me, but it's perfectly fine to say a big screw you to these societal pressures and have fun with my best friend, for my birthday!”

“How do you know this won’t be fun, Grace? Several people, including me, have worked hard to make this a memorable night for you… And you don’t even seem to care.” He got up and grabbed his backpack. She felt horrible. Maybe she was a childish brat, after all. 

“Simon…” 

“I have college exams coming up,” he said, softly. That was his version of a goodnight.

“Simon, I’m sorry. You’ve been working really hard to make up for the corn dog thing. It isn’t your fault that my parents are still punishing me. Not directly, anyway. I should have noticed that you were putting in all of this planning work for me, for us. I just… You don’t have to do it. I’m happiest the days that we just get to spend time together. I feel like we never get to anymore. Like the old days, when it was just you and me. I guess for me, getting older means losing everything that I consider precious and the closer my birthday gets, and the more adult you act, I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot.” She hugged herself. “But, you have a point. This will help my image and I should be grateful that everyone is working so hard. Especially you.” She kissed him on the cheek and he turned an instant bright shade of red, overmatched only by the Apex Red print she left there. He took a deep breath and gave her an affirming nod. 

So, she sucked it up and decided to be here tonight and gave it her all.

There was dancing, mingling, her mother announcing things over a speaker system, from a hidden mic attached to her person, and a presentation of gifts - something that Grace just knew Simon was responsible for. It was like whenever kids gave tribute to her at school and he’d tell them, “All right, you know the drill, line up and present tribute as your dues to be able to call yourselves members of the Apex.” 

But, tonight, there were Apex members with Simon’s kiss… She recognized his lip prints, as she noted tonight… lined up, very military in their movements, holding gifts in one hand and their fists into the air with the other. Grace smiled, in confusion, glanced at Simon, who was seated on the other side of the tête-à-tête with her. He was looking at the display. Simon felt like the world was about to become his. Grace was frightened that hers was about to fall apart…

Because with every presentation, every declaration that each kid seemed to be making on Simon’s behalf, traveling their memories of friendship with gifts that were brought as symbols of sentimental moments that she and Simon shared… she realized that this wasn’t just some tribute from Simon for her birthday. This was a very bold declaration!

Every gift was beautiful and brought up some of her fondest memories of them, and when Simon knelt in front of her and presented her with the final and most important gift - a charm bracelet, with charms of each of those gifts in his presentation, with an inscription “The Apex is Forever,” and in front of ALL THESE PEOPLE, friends, family, strangers, fans, celebrities, hired help, and whatever phones and cameras were present, he said, “The only thing that makes sense is that we’re together. Will you accept this as a token from my heart and take me as your man?”

What did that even MEAN? Was this for her father’s benefit? Shouldn’t he have discussed something so extreme with her? And what was she supposed to do with all of these eyes on her? With his eyes on her? 

“Gray Eyes…” She was sweating and about to cry and breathing hard… “You’ve always been my man, Man...” she said. There were cheers from just about everyone, except her parents. Her mother threw her father a displeased look, but the man just looked right back at her with a note of satisfaction. Her mother got up from her throne and went down the winding staircase of the tower to leave. Her father stood and thanked everyone for coming out to Grace and Simon’s 16th birthday party. 

Grace went to go find her mother as Apex members got out of her way, random strangers congratulated her on her new relationship, and friends crowded Simon to celebrate that they pulled it off. Simon barely noticed her leave, but when she paused in the doorway and looked at him, they made eye contact. He looked slightly confused, but when she turned to continue her exit, he continued talking to Apex.

“Mom?” Grace called, knocking on the boudoir door as she entered. The woman had already gotten out of the dress, but the elaborate hive of a hairdo, graced with celestial embellishments would take longer. Grace was shocked that the dress didn’t take longer, but she realized when she picked it up to avoid trying to cross over it in her own, that Mrs. Monroe had ripped it off. “Are you okay?”

“He isn’t right for you,” Her mother said, staring at the reflection behind her in her vanity. “You and I both know it. You think that I don’t pay attention, but I do. He isn’t right for you, and you’ll regret this.”

“I thought that you wanted me with my best friend. It was Daddy who wanted me with someone in my class.” Now, he’s paying Simon to make me a kept woman and suddenly my best friend isn’t right for me? “Did you two switch roles?”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Your father is settling, because he thinks that a man can fix anything. Forget about the fact that women historically have been doing all of the heaviest lifting without any of the credit, whether it’s been in the workplace or in the home. The driver told us that there was something wrong with you, and we didn’t listen. We knew that we raised you to make good decisions, with morals and intelligence. The moment you introduced me to Simon, I saw that he was a bad decision. But, you talked to us, and we heard you out. This was your best friend and you wanted us to treat him like someone you cared about, and so we did. You never ask for much. It was one small task to take an unfortunate child into some of our charity. Now, look at you… some miserably defected boy’s golden goose.” She snatched up her makeup removing cloth and shook her head, “Your father is settling. You’re settling, and you’ll regret it.”

Grace grabbed a foot stool and set it next to her mother, “I didn’t know what to say. I had to say something and I couldn’t just shoot him down in front of all those people. The public would burn me at the stake for that, and Simon would be hurt, and Daddy would be displeased. I don’t even think you would have liked that.”

“Why do you think he CHOSE tonight to do this?” She asked. “You think that he just thought this was the right time to show you that he cared? He wanted an audience. He wanted to put you on the spot. He wanted to control the situation so that he could have some control over your answer! Don’t be fooled, Grace. Simon is a smart boy. He knows who you are and how you are. He knew what to say and do to get you to say yes and you fell for it.”

Grace was getting fed up with her mother’s accusations. She thought the woman had grown to like Simon, at least. She was speaking about him like he was still just some shaggy boy in a shabby suit to her. “He didn’t purposefully put me in an uncomfortable position, Mom. Simon may have a lot of problems, we ALL do… but he does love me and he would never do something to make me stressed out on purpose or try to dominate me!” 

The woman finally actually turned her face to Grace, and Grace would never forget the look of certainty in her eyes whenever she said, “Simon doesn’t even know what love is, and neither do you. What in this world would make you think that he is able to give you something that he has never been given before, himself?”

“Because, I know that I give him my love. He knows it too...” Grace said in a low voice, unsure of the truth in that, even as she said it. 

Her mother scoffed and turned back to the mirror, a bemused partial smile on her features. “Whatever it is that you two give each other… You’ll regret it, Grace. Mark my words. I haven’t changed my position at all. You should still make sure that you build a life with your best friend. My opinion is that Simon simply isn’t that. I don’t know if he ever was. You just regarded him as such because you had someone who you could control for once. But, he’s grown out of that, poppet. You didn’t even notice when he cut his strings and tied them onto you, did you? Of course not. Because, you love him. Because he’s your friend. Love makes you stupid. Friendship makes you weak. And you let him make you both.”

On principle alone, Grace was going to take her relationship with Simon as far as it could go. Just to prove that her mother was wrong. “Well, you didn’t seem to mind him whenever you needed my strings pulled.” 

Her mom was wiping off makeup. “I minded. I just knew that I have more control over him these days than I do over you. Simon may have surpassed your tactics, but the world will burn before he’s ever able to match my skills. You’ve just gone so wrong that you don’t know which way to go. Maybe you do need professional help.” She sighed, “It’s sad. You had such potential, and you’re going to end up just like me. The trophy of someone who wanted the best, only to hoard your greatness...”

She left the boudoir, angrily and found Simon and her father on the terrace, watching the guests be led out of the event. “Hey,” she said. They both turned around to see her.

“I should go find my wife,” her father said and clapped Simon on the shoulder. 

“She’s not happy,” Grace warned, under her breath. Her father hugged her and gave her a soft happy birthday. She wondered if Simon hadn’t told him that would be a nice present. That just made it feel… less than, but the entire night had been unpleasant to some degree. Or, if she now was deserving of his affection because she had found herself a good man to tame her. That just made her feel sick.

When they were alone, she stared at Simon, trying to forget the things her mother accused him of, but… something had felt off about him for a while. It wasn’t his damn eyebrows, or his hygiene, or anything like that. There was something different about him. Something that made her uncomfortable. Something that she felt like needed to be addressed, but never wanted to, because it might put them in a bad place. 

But, those were her friend’s eyes. Gray eyes, that always looked at her with fondness, from the very first time they landed on her. “Simon… What you did tonight…” He smiled. He was extremely impressed with how well he pulled it all off! She had no idea that he had worked so hard for the most spectacular gift to the Apex ever - official confirmation of Grace and Simon, their OTP, their royalty. “You shouldn’t have.” His smile faded. Her face was stern and she didn’t seem happy.

“The Internet will talk about this night forever.”

“The Internet wasn’t in that room tonight! The Internet wasn’t put on the spot, in front of all of those people. The Internet didn’t just have their mother scold them for being stupid and weak enough to have a friend and to love that friend. You put me in a really uncomfortable position, Simon. You had the chance to tell me about this whenever we talked about how important this party was to you, and you didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t say anything because it was a surprise… A surprise that I take it ‘the impossible to please Grace Monroe’ was not pleased with.” 

“I get why you felt like you had to impress my dad, but…”

“Your dad?” He laughed, but his eyes looked anything but amused, “Your dad? You think I did that for some empty promise to your dad?”

“Why else would you do it?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” He shouted at her, almost right in her face. She was stunned. It was the most contradictory way of saying it that she had heard and she had heard her parents tell her this before with not the slightest hint of warmth or kindness. This… was actually terrifying. 

He must’ve realized that he frightened her, because he reeled himself in and placed prayer hands over his mouth as he waited for her next words. She couldn’t find any, so he broke the silence. “I didn’t mean to yell. You just… sound like you didn’t mean it when you said yes to me. You sound like you're backing out. You sound like you’re making excuses, when you could have just told me that you don’t want me.”

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. All of those things were true, but he was saying them like they were unreasonable, considering the atmosphere that she was faced with, not to mention this completely alarming reaction to even the possibility of those facts. “Simon… Do you remember the conversation we had about the girl you liked?”

“I remember the conversation we danced around about our feelings for each other,” he said. “I remember that you said that I’m amazing and that I deserve a chance. I remember you said, “I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.” I remember knowing that you were afraid to lose me, and now you won’t. I don’t know what’s been up with you. That conversation was the confirmation that I needed, to know that you know that we belong together!”

“I told you that I didn’t think that I could give you what you might expect out of a relationship...” Her heart was racing as she choked the words out, not wanting to upset him, but unable to stop herself from reminding him.

“Grace, I don’t care about your sexuality. That’s a part of you and I respect that. I just get sick and tired of us pretending that there’s not something between us.”

“I’ve never pretended that…”

“Then what’s the problem? You don’t really love me?”

“I do!”

“Good! We’re on the same page again!” He collected her into a hug and she started crying on his shoulder. 

Simon felt like… She gets it. She knows how I feel, I know how she feels, and everything is right in the world again. Grace had never felt more alone, misunderstood, or confused… but, at least she still had Simon. 

They could work through these feelings. She was obviously just projecting the doubts her mother had planted. This was Simon. Her Simon. Her friend… her man? That thought didn’t even sound right, but that’s what… what was happening? She stood and stared at his face. He was watching her suspiciously, like he was looking for a sign of her doubts from moments before. She had to do something that she had done before, but had never really thought about the fact that she had to do this with Simon… she plastered on a fake smile and cupped his face. 

He sighed and rested his lips against her forehead. “My Grace,” he whispered, holding her tight. She softened, willing herself not to feel tension with Simon. She wrapped her arms around him and rested against him. It didn’t feel quite right, but she knew these arms, this scent, the rhythm of this heartbeat, and that was what she guessed she needed, to deal with… whatever the rest of that stuff was.

.

“Since you brought it up, Grace… What do you think is the significance of that talk today?” 

Grace came out of her memories of she and Simon to look at the psychiatrist. Every time she pulled herself out of a memory of Simon and the Apex, she was faced with this woman, and she was brought back to reality - the real world, where Simon was no longer in her life and she was the most trapped she had ever been. 

The large glasses, large afro, the fullest lips and a wide gap between her teeth always reminded Grace of one of those cheap pieces of Black art in the beauty supply shop… but the doctor always was dressed in a business suit and had a blank facial expression. She didn’t smile or look sad or even seem to react to anything Grace said. 

That made it easier for Grace to confide in her about everything that went down between her and Simon before she landed herself in this place. That made her more open about the things he’d done to punish her, as well as all of the things she did that made her feel like maybe she deserved some of his punishment. Everyday she told herself that she didn’t, but when the person you’ve loved more than anything for nearly half of your life turns against you, turns everyone against you… “Maybe… Maybe I messed up. I should have just told him that I couldn’t see a future for us and that I would always be his friend and nothing else. I knew that he cared about me. I should have been more direct in telling him that couldn’t happen the way that he wanted.” The doctor blinked and nodded once. “And now, I’ve said something wrong to you.”

“It isn’t that you’ve said anything wrong, Grace. You spoke your true feelings, and that’s what you’re supposed to do here. It’s never wrong of you to admit your feelings. Now that you’ve stated them, I can help you sort through them again. Whenever you spoke with Simon that day - the day that you tried to bring back to his remembrance on the night of the party, did you tell him any lies?”

“No. I was completely honest with him about everything.”

“Why do you feel like you should have lied instead? How would you suppose it might have been a benefit to either of you, for you to lie to him?”

“Because, Simon couldn’t handle my truth. I was supposed to protect him. The people in his life always abandoned him. I was the one person who he thought he could depend on, and when I could have protected him and just told him that we were friends, and that was it, I told him that I loved him and had a fulfilling relationship with him.”

“Why do you think that a lie might have protected Simon?” 

Grace shrugged her shoulders, “I guess that doesn’t make sense. But, my relationship with Simon never did. When we were little, I could always tell when something was bothering him and I always tried to smooth him over. I always made it right. Then… we got older and I noticed less and less. I realized that a lot of the stuff that I said and did to keep Simon docile were probably the same kinds of things that made him so aggressive?” Grace needed the doctor to tell her whether this sounded right or not. She hardly knew anymore. What she did know was that when she was 16, she lost her best friend, and it took her two more years to even fully see that.


	13. Exposing the Void Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this chapter is straight up Simon’s thoughts, so it gets jumbled and possibly confusing. Let me know if there’s parts where things are unclear (most likely in those times, we’re inside of Simon’s thoughts). Word Count: 5969. Trigger Warnings: Self harm, child death, child abuse, mental instability, mental abuse, dehumanization, betrayal, delusions, intrusive thoughts... 
> 
> This chapter was actually the hardest for me to write in this story, thus far. And please keep in mind that in this space, there is no ableism allowed. So, refrain from using terms about psychosis or mental illness as insults towards the characters. The purpose is not to blame Simon’s actions on poor mental health or to excuse his behavior due to his trauma. The purpose is to understand a story in a world where mental illness is not necessarily the cause of why some people do evil things, but is sometimes a factor (not usually, as mentally ill people are generally more likely to hurt themselves than others), but yes, there are occasions where our psychosis can led to dangerous outbursts. Please don’t use the phrase “Go psycho” when referring to any variation of Simon Laurent, even this one. Thank you.

Simon was getting a tattoo. He’d already decided that much. He didn’t know of what, but he was convinced that he would think of something. It seemed healthier than self harm, at least… and a professional would mark him in this scenario. 

He had a full course on his schedule, additional hours of extracurricular activities and work, plus interviews and maintaining his website. Plenty to do to keep his mind off of it - the void. His nostrils flared just thinking about it. Sometimes, he found himself checking social media for updates from a backup account. He had been blocked under his personal and professional ones. But, it wasn’t back. The last post was the same post that had been shared to each of them by its team.

“Hello, Apex Members. On behalf of The Internet’s Honey, Miss Grace Monroe, we would like to express the sincerest apologies for the negativity that has been spread and for the things that Miss Monroe stands accused of. She is seeking help at a secure location, and it is our hope that she will return to you soon, in all of her glory, fully restored, healthy and well.”

The comments were thousands of “Fuck Grace Monroe. She’s cancelled.” etc. He had been amused before, but the more comments that were added, the more numb he became to them. He was numb to many things… still somehow… it left its mark on him. He pulled up his sleeve and looked at his tallies… it left several. “Fuck Grace Monroe,” he whispered, shook his head and said in a louder, more confident tone, “Fuck the void.” A little mantra before his early AM classes. 

Whenever he got home, though… He went through a range of emotions for a while. Everybody lies to me. Everybody leaves me… Even when nothing had anything to do with this thought process, if he wasn’t focused deeply on something else, there were the thoughts. Sometimes, even when he WAS working on something else. The thing about living alone and being at home was that he had a lot of time to get trapped in his harmful thoughts, and no Grace there to ease things. Not anymore.

It started with his mother. She was only going to be gone “for a little while.” 

Simon wasn't confident in his abilities to watch himself AND a younger person. He was a cub scout and even a careful child, but he knew that Hope could be a handful, sometimes even for their parents. “I don’t think I can watch Hope, Mom.”

“Oh, of course you can, Simon!” She cheered. “It’s only for a little, short, while, and you’re my capable little man.”

Hope laughed and said, “He’s not a man. He’s Simon.”

“If Mom says I’m a man, then I am!”

Their mom clarified, “He’s a big boy who gets to be man of the house when Mommy and Daddy aren’t here. Mommy’s Little Man. You’ve got this, Si. Like I said, only a little while.” She tousled his hair and filled him with confidence that he had not had a few minutes prior… then she was gone for what felt like forever. 

18 year old Simon knew that she had only been gone for 2 hours, but as a 10 year old watching a 4 year old who didn’t want to be watched by a “fake man,” it seemed like a lengthy stretch of time. With Hope doing things that she knew she shouldn’t, taunting him by telling him that he’s a fake man and that’s why he couldn’t stop her, and whenever she tried to go into the attic, that was the last straw. He had gotten really mad at her. She had been teasing him, calling him a fake man, a little baby, a small, small Simon… He didn’t mean to hurt her, but he was offended by her name calling. He was only going to drag her into her room and make her have a time out. 

18 year old him knew that he was angry when he grabbed her by the back of her shirt, as hard as he could, upset with her, but also needing to get her off of the ladder and into her room. 10 year old him yanked her off of the ladder and flung her to the floor beneath them with rage. She let out a screaming laugh whenever she went flying down, but when she hit the floor… she became silent. 

Simon shook his head. That wasn’t my fault. I was a child! The void had been right about that. “Who leaves a 10 year old home alone with a 4 year old?” He heard her voice ask, when they were kids. More than that - Who tells a boy that young that he is trusted with the life of a smaller child? That he’s “a man” because you need a little favor? Two. Hours! 

He still didn’t know how long he had sat there trying to wake Hope up before their mother came back or where she was at that time, but wherever she was, he hoped she thought about it every single day that she tried to blame him. He hoped it ate away at her and corrupted her from the inside out until her health faded and her heart stopped. He didn’t always feel that way. 

When he was 10, he blamed himself. He loved his mother. He wanted her back. He wanted to be her little man again, even though he failed her. He was still so young and confused, and nobody was helping him to understand it all. He couldn’t answer why he didn’t call 911. He was scared. He was crying. He... just didn’t think about it at the time. He hadn’t been prepared for an emergency.It was supposed to just be a little while! I was supposed to be the man of the house. Nothing bad was supposed to happen on my watch...

It continued with his father. So furious with his wife’s decision that he couldn’t stand to share the same breathing space with her most of the time. Unfortunately, that also meant not sharing it with Simon. He told Simon that he didn’t blame him. He lied. Some part of him had to, because otherwise, why would he have left him with the woman who had been so irresponsible that they already lost one child? Because… he died in his father’s eyes that night, too. The man was just too much of a coward to admit it. So, he just… left.

And Grace… He almost started crying, but shook his head and shook her it out of his mind. “Void,” he said and clenched his fists. Still… He missed her it. She It was the only thing that used to be able to get his mind off of his family, his pain, his guilt, his rage… 

For so long, she it was the only thing. Now, he was left to just force himself to live through this. He was better off. It was going to stop his full potential. It had already stunted him so much. He spent years building a fortress for it and throwing himself in front of everything that came its way. Never again. 

.

After they began officially dating, she was acting weird and he let it go. This was new for both of them and she was still trying to figure out her sexuality. He thought he was extremely understanding about her characteristics. As a matter of fact, up until the moment that he realized that she was a liar, he found no flaws in her at all. He loved all of her, perfect in every way and in the ways that she wasn’t, he never took notice. He just re-imaged those things as perfect, because they were things that were of Grace. Being a snobby, rich bitch - fine. Being lazy and irresponsible, sure. Being wishy-washy and confusing… he didn’t love that, but he accepted it and always assumed that maybe he was mistaken, or maybe she was the confused one in those moments. He never thought that she was deceiving him. Now, it was all that he could think about.

How many lies she must have told him over the years, how much of his childhood and adolescence was built upon those lies… He had to try to void everything that he had ever known her to be from his life, and from his mind.

“Do you not love me?”

“I do!”

Had he not been so blinded by his love, he would have known that she didn’t mean it. He would have heard it in her tone. He would have seen it in her eyes. “The void was just that good,” he told himself. “It tricked everyone. You watched it work for so long, you thought that you were exempt. It cares about nothing but itself.”

She seemed like she was withdrawing from him. He didn’t want to see it at the time, but he knew what that looked like. He couldn’t stop his mother from doing it. He couldn’t stop his father from doing it. He couldn’t even keep the pet cat around! How does one even run off an animal? 

The point was… he saw Grace leaving. He saw her packing up. He saw her setting out. He did everything he could possibly think of to prevent it, even before she realized that she was leaving. But, when somebody wants to get away from you, they’ll do whatever you let them do to get away. She should have thanked him. He not only let her go, but he removed her completely. That’s what she wanted, anyway. She made that decision herself. “The void would have taken everything from you. Everything you worked for. Everything you’ve built. Everything you set in place to manage without the liars, the leavers, the lost ones…” 

She first began slipping away from him before they became official. She started having problems with things that she didn’t have problems with previously… Honestly, she started the moment that she chose to leave him behind to tour for the summer when they were 15. The previous 5 years, she had plenty of times she could have went on the road. She either blew off her auditions or she didn’t push herself as hard. She had said that she could show off her skills on the Internet and have just as big of a following, if not a bigger one than if she built a resume of dance troupes and traveling ballet. She even forfeited the chance to be in a Broadway production, because she was worried that she’d never get to see him again. Then, when they were 15… It became more important to her than him.

He tried not to take it personally, because she had sacrificed plenty of opportunities for him before. But, it was a bad time for him, and a busy time and… he needed her. He always needed her back then. He had never been prepared to not have her. Sure, he could have went with her, like she wanted, but if HE put off his things, he didn’t have rich parents to fall back on. He didn’t have parents to fall back on, period. She… was in more of a position to give up her goals… but she had decided not to. That was fair. He told himself many times every day that was fair and she deserved to choose herself sometime. She came back changed… or maybe he changed without her there. That much doesn’t matter, right now. What matters is that he TRIED to fix them. She leaned more into these changes. These changes that could tear them apart. Changes that would leave him lonely again, for the first time in years.

Grace was working on her music career junior year. After the tour, she had connections that she didn’t want to go cold. She would throw herself into those and into creation while Simon was working on a future that he still hoped was for both of them. He was working his ass off for them, but in hindsight, she was working hers off for herself. After she was Simon’s girlfriend, at school, things felt different for her. Everybody treated her exactly the same way that they always had, but everything was just different. 

Simon was either more social than she knew him to be, or had gotten that way overnight. Then again… He was in StuCo and held a position… so he had the social skills to at least win people over. She supposed that she hadn’t noticed because he was the one who she always had to talk out of a fight. He was more than that, of course, but… she guessed that she hadn’t realized how many friends he must’ve had, because he was doing a lot and having to leave her behind, most of the time.

Most times, he gave her a quick rundown of what type of stuff he had to do for the day, kissed her on the cheek, promised to see her later and rushed off. She chalked it up to the busy schedule that he had been speaking about for this year, at least a year in advance, and didn’t think much of it. At least, whenever they had space, she didn’t have to wonder what to do next. She didn’t have to decide if she should be sitting in his lap like his friend’s girlfriend, or in between his legs like that girl across the way, or straddling him like Shana sometimes did whoever she was dating, or… sit there, with her book, pretending not to see any of it and smiling at Simon whenever they made eye contact. 

Simon was always studying her, surveying, making inventory of her expressions and potential emotions. She could feel him investigating and she didn’t know what to do with that. He didn’t know what to do with his findings… Why was she so uncomfortable when he looked at her? Why did she shy away from his gaze? What was wrong with her that she didn’t want his attention? She always wanted attention… it was basically her identity! Not only did she start to seemingly have problems with his attention, but also the rest of the world’s attention.

Being trapped in her room most of the time meant more work on her music. Anytime she posted something new, someone always showed up to remind others of how she "accosted an innocent woman on the train and threatened to ruin her life if she sought justice" and that she "is actually a terrible person." Sure, her fans defended her, but her focus was stuck on the negative feedback. Simon told her, “Don’t worry about those nulls. You’re Apex royalty. They’re scrubs.” He wasn’t remotely concerned about it. 

Simon had asked himself if he had defended her to them, would things have been different between them… but the previous times he had defended her, she got mad at him! It took him days to get her back to normal, and even then, she seemed tepid. She was letting a bunch of strangers on the Internet doubt herself. 

“She let a bunch of nulls weigh in on her confidence, then she got made at ME for agreeing with her parents that it was weak of her. It was! The Apex doesn’t care about the opinions of nulls!” He realized that he was speaking of the void like it was a person again. Personifying it. Humanizing it. That was sometimes difficult not to do. He would tap into his disappointment, hurt, and anger and he knew it was because of this rot that had spread in his life for years. 

But, every now and then a glimmer of her smile, her smell, her softness would hit him in the heart and he would forget about it temporarily. For a few moments, she would be the love of his life again… “It doesn’t care about you. It never did. The void is a parasite. It would have poisoned everything, if you hadn’t cut the head off and incapacitated it.”

He glanced over at a mannequin head designed to look like it. It had given him the idea, inadvertently whenever it jokingly accused him of being a life size figurine of himself. Immediately, he thought - I’ve gotta make her one of those! It was a passion project, and of course, he didn’t have a lot of time to work on it, but the head was complete by the time it showed itself as the hollow it was.

.

Grace felt like she hadn’t smiled for real in a while. Nobody really noticed. The Apex didn’t know her that well. Simon didn’t have time for her. Her parents probably never cared. She went into town with her flock of girls, these days. She felt like Simon was sending them to be around her and she didn’t know if that was sweet or creepy. But, she ditched them at the mall to go to see him. He was at work that night, at the learning center. He had a job helping to tutor struggling kids - one that his credits as a student tutor at the Academy, his grades, his position as one of the students enrolled in the early college program, and a recommendation from Mr. Monroe got him hired at, despite the fact that most of the staff here were actual educators. 

They didn’t even know about the fact that Simon had started a business of doing people's homework, projects, sometimes their tests from the time he was 11 until he was 15. He was definitely qualified for tutoring, but it was her father’s recommendation that really gave him the edge over actual teachers. He was satisfied enough there. He still did a project or two for the rich kids when he could squeeze something in, for extra cash. He was saving up to move out of his dad’s house. Now that his mother was at her mother’s, his dad was considering leaving the military and coming home. Simon didn’t want to be around for that, but there never seemed to be enough money for anything. That was his “adult” experience… Working all of the time, going to school, barely hanging on to his sanity, and yet being so broke that had his father not still been paying the bills, he knew he might be homeless and starving… so it was presumable that's how he might live once Mr. Laurent got back. 

He couldn't ask the Monroes for more help. They had practically been taking care of him for the past two years. Mr. Monroe, at least, had been helpful in ways that Simon couldn’t describe. Sure, he believed he would have figured things out for himself , but thanks to the Monroes, he hadn't had to. He intended to pay them back eventually, but for now, he worked hard and loved Grace with everything else he had. 

"Hey." He heard her say, walking in with a bag and a cup holder. His smile was wide and his eyes lit up. That made her reflexively smile back. How many of those smiles were fake, he’d have to wonder for as long as he couldn’t shake her out of his mind. “Ditched the girls to bring you dinner. Didn’t know if you’d have a chance to get to some on your own.”

He checked the time on his phone, “Actually, you’re right on time. I was about to go into the computer room and work on homework before I head out.”

“Yeah! Great timing is a thing that I definitely usually don’t have.” 

They went into the breakroom to eat and Simon was on his phone, furrowing his eyebrows and blocking people in Grace’s comments. She glanced over and saw, then sank in her seat, not wanting to think about her latest post. “This sounds really good, Grace,” he told her. And he meant it. The vocal coach that she had began to see so that she could confidently transition into singing was paying off. It wasn’t that she sounded bad before, but her voice was pretty bland and she didn’t seem to be able to find her range on her own. 

“I wish the audience thought that,” she said, with a sigh. The Internet was making her depressed and isolated. Every thing that she shared came with thousands of critics. As someone used to only either being complimented or ignored, criticism hurt a little more than she would have expected. Perhaps because she was too popular and therefore attracted more feedback than a person probably should have to be faced with at 16.

Regardless of that, Simon shrugged and said, “Anybody who doesn’t like it doesn’t have to listen to it. They’re there, so they obviously wanted to hear the song. Besides, I see way more support than hate.” 

“Maybe so, but there’s a LOT of hate, and it’s very aggressive and hurtful. Like… I don’t understand why me trying out a new song and someone not liking it can’t just be scrolled by. Why did this girl have to tell me: Ugh. Everybody tries to be a singer. You’re a lip gloss model, Honey. Keep doing that. Beautiful gowns.”

“Because, she’s a bitch,” Simon said and took a bite of his sandwich. Grace let out an irritated sigh that caused him to look up from his phone. “What?”

“You just… don’t get it.”

“What don’t I get? The song sounds good. You have excellent equipment. You wrote pretty clever lyrics, did your own music, sang and was proud enough of your work to share it with the world. Now that a few birds have come squawking, you no longer see the greatness in what you shared? I know you wouldn't have posted it if you didn’t think it was perfect. So, I get it more than you do. You’re distracted by someone with a crooked wig on in her profile picture?” 

Grace looked at the profile picture and saw that the woman’s wig definitely had been sadly placed onto her head. She laughed about it and laughed at herself a little too… but this was always Simon’s reaction to her venting about the people that made her feel bad. He’d basically make her feel a little bit worse by not acknowledging that her feelings were valid and by pointing out how insignificant her critics were. The simple fact that he had a point, that they were nulls, and she was letting them upset her only made her feel worse, which she couldn’t tell him because he didn’t seem to take her feeling bad that seriously anyway. 

She knew it was because she had always prided herself on being strong and not caring what people thought about her… but she was handled a lot differently outside of her echo chamber. The Internet was global and her following was high, but some of the people who followed her seemed to do it just to see what to complain about, just to make a dent in her day. They succeeded, too. But, the only person she could admit it to just told her to suck it up. 

“I’m thinking about going to a performing arts college,” she said. Simon dropped his phone and stared at her. She smiled awkwardly and said, “I mean… You’re preparing pretty hardcore for college and I’ve dived into this music thing. Maybe, I ought to be more serious about it and actually get the official credentials..”

“Where are you thinking of going?”

“I’m thinking of trying to go to Julliard.” He relaxed a little bit at that. Juilliard was in New York. That would be farther from him than he would like, but if he was at MIT, that would be about an hour away and if he was at Princeton… well… That would be 3 hours, or more… but… He had enough time to put these things into his planning and decision making. “Or… I might go uh, overseas.” Now, his frown was embedded in all of his features. “If I can’t get into the best one in the world, I’m going to shoot for the next best… that’s in Austria…” She bit her lip, waiting for his demeanor to change, hoping that he just had to think about it for a moment. His demeanor did change, but he seemed further away from what she wanted of him at the moment. “What brought this on?” He asked.

“Just… want to get more serious about my craft. Sure, I can spend hours and hours a day working on choreography and songs, training with some of the best professionals in the entire world, but people are still coming onto my dance video posts and saying things like, “I didn’t know that Grace Monroe could dance! I love her more now!” Didn’t know that I could dance? That’s like… the ONE THING that I can do with complete confidence! I’m trying to get my music career started when my first talent isn’t even recognized…”

“It IS recognized! It’s recognized ALL of the time. You’re just so focused on the dregs that don’t recognize, that you’re willing to go 4000 miles away from me, for years, to impress strangers on the Internet who probably STILL won’t fuck with you, because most of the people inciting you are people who just don’t like you, Grace!” He let out a chuckle of disbelief, but she hated it.

“Don’t laugh,” she said, very seriously.

“I’m not laughing,” he said, shook his head, then slumped back in his seat, resting his face in his palm as he tried to collect himself. 

"How could you have possibly taken everything that I just told you about how I'm feeling and what I intend to try to do about that and just… make it about you?"

He uncovered his face to look at hers. She looked like she was going to cry. He hated when she cried. It was too far away from her normal… at least it used to be. She was crying more and more lately. Sometimes from the littlest things.

"If you can't see how much a decision like that will affect both of us, then I'm not sure if I currently am in the mood to explain it to you."

"Whenever I shared my thoughts about how much people were hurting my feelings, you didn't care about how that could affect the both of us. You just expected me to deal with it on my own. This is my idea for how I deal with that." 

He leaned his elbows on the small table, steepled his fingers and rested his head against his hands. She wants to leave you. She’s using the excuse that people are hurting her feelings so that she can leave you and never come back. She never wanted you. She made that clear and you refused to see it. You thought that it was your brain being mean to you. She lied to you. She never loved you and she never wanted you. Now, she’s pretending that worthless people make her feel bad… She would rather look WEAK to you than to stay with you… 

“Simon?” She said. He scoffed. Fake concern. Don’t let her trick you with her soft voice. She’s venomous. She let you love her because she was bored, and now, she’s trying to abandon you like everyone else. “Simon,” she said, more stern. Drown her out. Drown her out. Drown her out. Drown her… “Simon!” She had gotten up and turned his face to look at her with her palm. She made him look into her eyes and he was powerless again. “Where’d you go?” She asked, smiling nervously.

“Did I do something wrong? Why do you want to leave me?” He asked, in a small voice. Maybe his brain was being mean right now. Maybe… it was all a misunderstanding? PLEASE, JUST TELL ME YOU LOVE ME AND THAT I’M OVERREACTING! I. WILL. BELIEVE. YOU.

“No. I did. I thought that I was ready to introduce myself to the world and now that the world knows me, there’s people out there who can’t stand me and I just… I don’t know how to do with that. In real life, they at least pretend to like me, you know?”

She rubbed her hands together anxiously. Lies. She can’t possibly care about the way these strangers feel. She’s Grace Monroe. She knows that she’s invincible. Caring about the movements of ants is futile… “Okay… What do you need me to do to fix it?” He asked, trying to ignore his brain’s warnings.

“Just, support me? I just want to take a step back from all the Internet music, maybe keep creating and try to get into a studio with something I’m proud of, instead of posting onto my websites, and… I really want to try to go to school, just to be more confident that I really do belong in the industry and that I’m not just Internet famous because I was a pretty face with the best organic lip gloss.”

“Support you… leaving me,” he said. 

She couldn’t pick up any emotion. It was like something had settled in his mind. Something that he didn’t let her know. “It would be temporary, Simon. Just like whenever you thought you would have to go to the military after graduation.”

“I recall very minimal support from you in regards to that.”

“Yeah, well… I stick by what I said. Our military is a global terrorist, oppressing and destroying civilization in mostly Brown nations. Juilliard is hardly like that, and I most likely will get in! I don’t think I'll HAVE to go to Austria. I wanted to be clear that it’s an option. I just meant the time that we’ll be apart. Plus, I’d send for you if you ever need to see me.” She knelt beside him, cupped his face and kissed him on the lips. He froze in place. She NEVER kisses you on the lips. She always moves her face to make you kiss her on the cheek, or the nose, or… something. She’s placed her hand between your mouths, before! You can’t ignore this any further. It’ll break your heart. You’ve lost her. There’s a void where your Grace once was… Tears fell down Simon’s cheeks as he stared at Grace’s confused face.

She wiped them away with her thumbs and as his tears were being cleared away, so was her face. He just saw a blurry form in front of him, a dark shadow, with an aura of smoke. He looked terrified. She turned to look behind her, alarmed by his reaction, thinking something was hovering over her. She definitely felt a switch of things in the atmosphere. She didn’t see anything though. Simon did.

A void. It stood in front of him, speaking with Grace’s voice and trying to pass itself off as the girl he’d loved for as long as he knew her. That girl was obviously gone. No longer fit for him. No longer fit for the Apex. “Okay.” He said, suddenly fine, as far as she could tell. “I’ll support you.” She offered him a small, confused smile, but he didn’t return it. He didn’t even look at her again. He collected their trash, threw it out and took her hand, “I’ll get you home. 

.

Simon was silent the entire way to the Monroe’s estate. He didn’t get out to get her door, or walk her to the mansion, or talk with her father, so she knew that even though he said he was okay with her decision, that he wasn’t. It was best to just give him his space to work it out, she thought. She thought wrong... Simon tensed up whenever she kissed him on the cheek goodnight. As soon as she got out of the car, he peeled away, vigorously wiping the Apex red lip print from his face. She didn’t deserve to grant anybody that mark anymore. 

He drove with trembling hands and lips, talking to himself, arguing with himself about Grace. Grace that once hunted down his bullies with him because she thought he was the most important person in the world. Grace who had threatened anyone who so much as said something rude to him in passing. Grace... who used to want to be near him, and have his back. The Grace that couldn’t stand the thought of being anywhere without him at her side... She was as dead to him as Hope was. 

Speaking of... This had began right around the time that she brought him to the cemetery. Was it related? Had Hope somehow reached over and taken her vengeance on him by stealing away his Grace and replacing her with this dark spirit? This ghost? This VOID??? He pulled into the garage of his house, crying again. He left his backpack in the car. He wasn’t going to be doing anymore work that night. He passed the shrine that his father had in the workspace every time he pulled in, but usually, he avoided looking at it. Tonight, he paused and stared at her face. He... had forgotten it. He looked at the photos, wondering if she always looked that way? Not the angel that he remembered dying, but something sinister, smiling joyously at him as he shriveled in pain. “Did you do this?” He asked her. He could hear her laughs in his mind from that night. Her taunting him, making him feel like he wasn’t enough. “I didn’t mean it, Hope! It was an accident!” he yelled at the photos. 

“Fake man! Fake man! Wook at the widdle baby man! Can’t catch me! You’re not a man! Mommy lied! Mommy lied!” 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t... Please, just... stop.” He whispered, crying more than he had in a long time. Her photos began to move, to cackle, to point at him and call him a baby man... He roared and punched the display, breaking the glass of the frame, which fell on it’s face, bounced off of the desk and crashed to the floor. Now, it was covered in blood. Only a bit of it was from his fist... the rest seemed to be seeping from the cracks in the frame. Like... he had killed Hope, all over again. He picked up a shard of the glass and clenched it in his fist. This was too much. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. This was his mind messing with him, He needed to center himself.

He raised his sleeve and looked at all of the tally marks that he had made for his Grace and he began to add on to them. “1 You are stronger than anybody you know. 2 You are smarter than anybody you know. 3 You can survive losing Grace. 4 Only you can get rid of the void that swallowed her whole. 5 You owe the Apex to get rid of the void. 6 You can do anything. 7 There’s nobody who could stop you. 8 You’re on your own now, but that’s for the best. 9 No one will hold you back. 10 No one can hurt you again, because everyone you loved is gone...” He took a deep breath, looked at the broken frame and threw his piece of glass on top of it. He didn’t even care about cleaning it up. The girl in the photo couldn’t hurt him anymore. And neither could the one in his memories... The one that he used to call Grace, “The void,” he said, going into the house.


	14. Exposing the Void Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, okay... This chapter kinda fucked me up and I rush edited because like... I just want to get past this whole thing. I think it’s important to note that outside of 10 episodes, the concepts we were given in I.T. would be drawn out a little longer and take more time to impact the characters and also for them to deal with and go through. So, as I warned previously, rough content ahead. Trigger warnings: Gas lighting, revenge porn, slut shaming, mental abuse, ableist terminology, violence

It couldn't really just be in her head, right? Had the opinions of strangers made her THAT far away from reality? Simon definitely “liked” every single comment where someone was being mean to her this morning… but by the time she asked him about it, none of the comments were liked. She knew she didn't imagine it. It happened for a few days before she flat out asked, "Are you fuckin' with me, Dude?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"With this liking the comments thing you've been doing, then undoing?" He stared at her like he was worried about her. "It's not funny. If you keep doing that, I'm gonna block you." 

He furrowed his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, turning away from her. "Maybe you need to take a break from social media. It's getting to you." 

It wasn't "getting to" her! HE was getting to her. Playing these games that she was unsure of why he wanted to mess with her like that. He knew she was sensitive about criticisms. To like the comments? Then unlike them later, so she felt crazy?? Wait… Grace… this is Simon. Why would he do that to you? Maybe you DO need to take a break from social media.

Her parents seemed as happy as she would expect about her wanting to go to college to get more pulp for her performance arts. They weren't easily excited, so their small approval was enough for her. 

But… for whatever reason… Simon had talked to them about her issues with the Internet and after a long lecture about how they didn’t raise her to be weak and insecure, she was really at her wits end with Simon. She didn’t say it, but she was pretty irritated about it, to the point that she found herself snapping at him over things, then regretting it when he looked taken aback and hurt. Sometimes, she would see a flicker of anger and expect him to explode, so that they could finally just have their fight and be done with it… but he would always just turn off his reaction, which was probably something that he learned from her, but boy was it infuriating for her to go through. 

If SHE fussed after he had diffused things, then she knew that she would be being a bitch. So, she simply choked down the anger and got over it after a little while. It’s just that those moments were frequent enough that it soon felt better to not even speak to Simon at all.

She signed up for talent shows and amateur night spots. She went on auditions for local productions. She threw herself into recitals and built her resume. She shut Simon out and focused on her skills for the future. Despite the fact that Simon was equally busy, she found that he managed to always be at her house whenever he wasn’t busy. They weren’t even kicking it as much. Usually, he was with her parents. 

She would come home and chime, “I’m home!” And Simon would say, “Welcome home!” from another room. At first, she would go to greet him, give him a kiss, and speak to her parents, but closer to spring, she didn’t even announce whenever she got in. She came in, listened to see if she heard his voice in the house (usually did), and she would go to her room and start working on whatever music project she was into.

Followers were asking her for new content, but she’d always just say, “I’m working on something.” She would see the chats though - the sorrow and fear of fans that the haters had scared her away from the industry. She would turn on Summer Walker, Ari Lennox, Cleo Sol, Quin, Sza… She would let them sing comfort and confidence into her while she got washed up and set up to work. She would know that she was influenced by their work, but try not to just copy any of them. Plus, she added much more bass to anything that she made. She practiced rapping sometimes, but she often felt silly and knew that she would sound like a Kids Bop album if she actually tried to record her rapping. But, in certain songs, she was able to get away with distorting her voice a little and making portions of the rap match with the songs.

She liked to experiment with various styles, make beats, have a vibey sound that you could also shake to. “Black hippy girl with funk and soul, that’s mellow, but you can groove to it,” was how she tried to describe her work. There wasn’t a genre that really captured it well.

She worked on covers of songs, and made videos like Todrick Hall did, where she put together a cover singing multiple parts… but she didn’t want to share them and be accused of copying. She was copying, but only to see how her own would be. She rented studio time to do demos. 

She came out of the studio one night, mentally preparing to go home and see Simon there with her parents, but he was outside when she came out. It startled her, but she smiled and said, “Hey… didn’t expect to see you here!”

“Doesn’t seem like you ever expect to see me,” he said, emotionless. 

“Yeah. You’re usually SUPER BUSY with my parents,” she said bitterly, but cheerfully.

“Are you still mad that I told them about your Internet problems?” 

“No. I just think it's weird how much time you spend around them. They’re my parents and I don’t even spend that much time around them.” He sighed, annoyed. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“This is the third night that you’ve been here and left roughly at the same time. If anybody is watching you, they might know your pattern. You should be more careful. You’ll make it easy for enemies to hurt you.” It was a weird thing to say, she had to admit. It creeped her out. His tone and the suggestion, BUT, it also was Simon, who was naturally paranoid, protective, and proactive. So, she figured that he was in worried boyfriend mode and got into the car with him.

Simon wasn’t around her parents as much for a few days. She had some peace, but also had time to think about how much she missed him. She even beat herself up a little and reminded herself that she KNEW this would happen. This was why she didn’t want them to date in the first place. It had ruined their friendship! 

She texted him: Hey. I miss you.

Simon: Just a few days ago you didn’t even want to say hi when you came home.

Grace: I mean… I miss you being my friend. We’re where I was afraid we’d be if we dated.

Simon:... Do you want to break up with me???

Simon: Because a text isn’t a nice way to do that.

Simon: And this is a really bad time.

Simon: DO YOU WANT TO BREAK UP WITH ME?

Grace: No. I just want my friend back.

Simon: I want my friend back too. But, you’re the one who changed, Grace. Not me.

Grace: I thought all of my changes were positive, though. So… why didn’t they bring us closer together?

Simon: (Read) 

She didn’t hear back from him until the middle of the night, when her phone rang, but she missed his calls. She usually was a pretty heavy sleeper, and she took melatonin, because she could never seem to go to bed at night. 17 missed calls by morning and she called him back first thing. “Simon? Is everything okay?” 

Simon looked at his bloodied knuckles and lied, “Yeah. Sorry I called so much last night. I figured you’d be asleep, but I just… needed my friend.”

“What happened?”

“I got into a fight with my dad.”

“He’s home? What was the fight about?”

“I accidentally knocked something down in his workroom and I never picked it up. Listen, I know that you hate me spending time around your parents, but could I crash there a few nights?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Thanks.” he hung up and looked at his father, who was drunk and passed out, his face pounded in from Simon’s fists. He might be stuck on that couch for a while. He might not even remember the fight that they had the previous night. But, Simon made sure to let out every portion of rage that he ever had towards the man. Surprisingly, it gave him clarity on some things. He had been struggling with whether or not he intended to destroy Grace. She seemed to be coming around in her texts last night. Maybe… he could forgive her. Maybe they could make things work. Even if he couldn’t have her, maybe he could have his friend back. He was going to spend a few night there and try to assess everything. 

.

Thursday through Sunday bliss for Grace. By Monday, as she sat in class, sniffling, her tissues now wet beyond repair, she still couldn’t wrap her head around what had happened. Simon said that he must’ve left his web cam going from when he was practicing his arguments for an upcoming debate. It was important, because they were nearing the end of the school year and this one one of the final debates. 

She hadn’t even planned on anything happening between them, but they had been doing so horribly lately and she wanted, more than anything to just feel like she was on his good side again. Hell, sex wasn’t the worst thing a person could do and she had done far more for Simon in her life. So, though it took her a moment to settle herself into being comfortable with it, it wasn’t like she was morally opposed or even repulsed by it. She didn’t have urges, but her parts worked. With enough focus, she knew she could enjoy it and perhaps it was stupid of her to think that it would or could fix anything, but she at least hoped it might help.

Monday morning, everyone was looking at her strangely. Some laughed when she passed. Some whispered. NOBODY seemed threatened. Shana finally broke the silence with a very loud announcement of, “Good Morning, Internet’s Honeypot!” Everyone laughed. That wasn’t funny. 

She rolled her eyes, but approached Shana. “What are you so cheery about?”

Shana feigned shock and asked, “Oh, you don’t know, Give It Up Grace? It seems that somebody was naughty over the weekend. I’d even say, downright NASTY!” The girls with Shana started laughing and didn’t stop whenever Grace threw them a warning glare.

Something was wrong with this picture. “What are you talking about, Shana?” 

“Your boyfriend says that somebody stole his laptop this morning from the journalism room. A likely story. He’s the only thief in this school. But, whatever the truth is about that, this certainly is authentic,” Shana turned her phone to show Grace what was very clearly her, in a very personal situation with Simon. You couldn’t really see him, but she was certain that anybody who saw this could make him out. She slapped the phone out of Shana’s hand and rushed away. Every pair of eyes that fell upon her seemed to know… they all must’ve seen it. Where was Simon? Had he DONE this to her? She checked the journalism room, where he was talking to a group of boys who she knew weren’t even in journalism… “Simon!” She called.

The boys all began hushed laughter and Simon smiled at her, kicked one’s chair and warned him, “Knock it off.” He met her at the door and she was breathing hard. “You… okay?” 

“No! Have you not seen that recording? A recording, mind you, that I didn’t know about nor consent to! Simon, PLEASE tell me that you didn’t record us without checking with me… Tell me that somebody who has it out for me hid a camera or something and…”

“What are you talking about Grace?” He asked. She studied his face. If there was anything that he should be worried about, there was no sign of it on his face. 

“Shana said that your laptop got stolen,” she said. “Was there anything on it that you need to tell me about?”

He blushed, “I mean… I do have quite a porn collection,” he said, laughing. “And I found it! I’d apparently just left it in the library. Why?”

“Did you record us this weekend? Yes, or no?”

He furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed, “Is that something that you think I’m capable of?”

The conversation went in circles of her insisting that SOMEONE recorded them and him finally going through his laptop to see the video in question, then denying realizing that he had done this. But, since he left his laptop in the library, anybody could have sent it out. “Why would I do this, Grace? You worshiped me in the moments following this, why would I use it against you?”

“I don’t know!” She squealed, crying and embarrassed and now guilty because she had accused him. He gave her a hug and she cried on him. He walked her to class, but he didn’t seem to mind the whispers that were echoing in her head as they passed people. But, he was a boy.

Nobody was judging him the way that they were judging her. She would hear details like, “You can see that he’s not even wearing protection! She has no self respect.” or “I don’t think he pulled out. Good thing her family can afford abortions.” Then there was Shana. Shana had been waiting YEARS to knock Grace off of her pedestal, and she took every chance she got to do just that. 

“Ooop. Backshots Ballerina in the building, Girls!” or “Mommy in the Making Monroe has arrived!” The worst part was that Simon wasn’t defending her. He wasn’t telling Shana to shut her fucking mouth. He wasn’t glaring at people laughing at her. He… seemed to be enjoying the attention. Then again, the attention he got was positive. She saw guys fist bump him and clap him on the back. She saw him laughing with people and them all quiet down when she approached. Simon always had an excuse as for why - none of which were related to “this obsession of yours.” 

This obsession? The entire student body had seen her entire body. It was circulating and they were shaming her for a private moment she shared with someone she loved… and he wasn’t even phased by it. Did he even fucking love her??? Was this typical boy bullshit? 

“You know Grace, your insecurity was cute at first, but now it’s starting to become pathetic,” Simon said. “You’re a public figure. People will always have something to say about you. Suck it up.” She slapped him in the face and stormed off, equal parts satisfied and mortified that she had reacted that way. She didn’t see the smile on his face as he rubbed his cheek. He was breaking the void down. She was losing respect and she was losing her cool. It had been so long since she reacted in violence. It kinda turned him on. It was like seeing old her for a moment. Even if it was directed at him.

.

Maybe she could get on a train and just leave town. Cash in her trust fund, buy a bungalow. Never look back… “Grace?” a boy’s voice said. She turned to see one of the Apex dudes. He bowed his head and she tapped her right cheek with two fingers. He came forward and held a sunflower in his hand. “I’m sorry that you’re having such a bad day,” he said and extended it to her.

“What is this?” 

He looked confused. “Tribute.”

“We’re still doing that? Nobody has said a word to me all day…”

“Is the Apex over?” he asked.

She sighed and took the flower, shrugged her shoulders and said, “I guess it can live on with Simon. I’m… done with everything in this place.” Tears welled in her eyes and he reached out to offer her a hug. She accepted. Graham? Grant? Was the first person, Simon included, to be nice to her about this thing that she was going through. It was short lived. Simon appeared out of nowhere and before she could think or speak, had the kid by the collar and slammed into the lockers.

“Who do you think you are?” Simon asked him, baring his teeth.

“Simon! That’s Graham! He’s Apex. He was just checking on me!” She said and pulled on Simon’s shoulder. 

Simon pressed his forehead to Graham’s and he said, “If I ever see you touch her again, you’ll give your right hand as tribute to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Simon. Understood Simon!”

“She’s. Mine.”

“I know, Simon. I’m sorry, Simon.” Simon shoved him and he rushed away. Simon raised an eyebrow and looked at Grace, expecting her to scold him for it. That’s what she was good for these days. 

She looked relieved, though. She rushed into his arms and collapsed onto his chest. “I thought you didn’t care about me anymore.” She looked up into his eyes. They still weren’t soft like they used to be, but he had a bit of a smile on his face as he collected her.

“You never have to worry about that.” She squeezed him tightly and cried on his chest. He wanted to tell her to stop it. That people could see her and that she looked weak to them. But… that was the whole point of doing this to her in the first place. 

Grace took a few days off of school. Simon brought her homework assignments. She was in bed most of the time. She wasn’t creating. She wasn’t living. She was sort of wasting away. Fortunately, so far the video scandal was being kept among the students, but she lay in waiting for when it went beyond them and she would have to try to explain herself to her parents. This was something that might never go away. 

Thursday evening, Simon asked, “Are you ever coming back?” She shrugged her shoulders and climbed into his lap for cuddles. This was her comfort. A bubble with her favorite person, away from social media, away from relentless peers, away from her parents. Simon kissed her on the nose. “Has this… made you never want to try again?”

“No. I almost want to make a purposeful video and send it out myself, just to show these bitches that I’m Grace Monroe, and I can do anything.” Simon’s eyes lit up. That was his Grace! She laughed and rested her head on him again. “How’s it been for you?”

“I don’t like that you’ve let it keep you out of school. You HAD perfect attendance. Now, you don’t.”

“I don’t care about perfect attendance, Simon. I care about… being the perfect girlfriend. That’s my new goal.”

“What brought this on?”

"Just… I think I get why you haven't really been bothered about things. I've been shutting you out, shoving you away. I haven't been as open or supportive as I used to, so why should you be?" He looked different suddenly. He looked like old Simon. She knew those eyes. She knew that smile. 

But, within moments, it went from warm, to guilty, to confused, to cold. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "There's a tough transition from childhood best friends to this. As long as you've got it now?"

"I think I've got it now." She said and kissed him again. She melted against his body and he strummed his fingers up and down the back of her neck. This is fucked up, Simon. You did something horrible to her, and now she's apologizing… But, she's still leaving you. It doesn't matter if she feels bad for being a bad girlfriend. It doesn't matter if she wants to undo that. She. Still. Wants. To. Leave. You. Proceed with her destruction… Its destruction. He cradled her, resigned that what he had already done and what he intended to do was completely fair and right.

Grace spent HOURS getting her hair unloc'd. She had to lose a lot of it, but it was still pretty long and made a large puffy halo that she could hardly wait to show off when she got back to school the next week. She felt brand new, though she wasn't excited to see the faces of her tormentors again. She and Simon got out of the car and she wrapped an arm around him and held her hand forward. Simon smiled and they moved forward. The kids made way, she smiled and greeted. Simon was quiet, but confident. 

Shana said something and Grace exchanged knowing facial expressions with Simon. He smirked and gave her a little nod. Grace handed her backpack to Simon. She flapped her fingers, said, "Wah wah wah," then uppercut Shana. Uppercut. Shana bit her tongue and stumbled back, her mouth bleeding and her hand on her chin. Simon smirked. Grace accepted her backpack back. 

The last time something like this happened (and it had been a while since Grace threw a punch on her own behalf, or on Simon's for that matter, nobody saw anything. They didn't know anything. They didn't say anything. But when the dean came rushing over, asking what happened, someone said, "Grace just assaulted Shana!" 

Grace was startled by that. She saw other kids nodding and agreeing that was what they saw. She looked at Simon, who, instead of swaying them back to obedience said, "Shana asked for it." Grace's eyes went wide. The dean grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her to his office. She turned to look at Simon. He was just staring at them. He wasn't riled up or upset or even following. The kids gathered behind him, also just staring… What. The. Fuck…

.

Her parents were not happy. "Expelled? Expelled?? At the end of the school year?" Her father complained. "Over violence? We didn't raise you like this!"

"You've barely raised me at all!" She snapped. She winced and said, "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to. Shana was bullying me.." 

"That's not what all of the other kids are saying."

"It's not even what Simon says," her mother added. 

Now, Grace's nostrils flared. "What does Simon say?"

"It's no secret to anyone that Grace and Shana don't get along, but none of us expected it to become physical. Shana was definitely giving her a hard time, but Grace let her temper get the best of her and I hate to say it, but it was pretty uncalled for, to lay her out like that." Her mother read from Simon's text.

"I handed him my backpack. He knew that I was about to lay hands on that bitch. Please! He's just saying that to impress you. Simon's seen…" she shut up. She was about to get herself into more trouble. "He definitely knew what was gonna happen when I handed him my bag."

"Why would he lie, Grace?" Her father asked.

"He's… obviously still mad at me for wanting to go to school. Simon can get really sensitive and a little bit clingy. He's punishing me."

"That sounds like a terrible relationship," her mother said. 

"It sounds like Grace making excuses for her disgusting behavior," her father said. The doorbell rang and the butler let Simon in. 

He shook Mr. Monroe's hand, bowed to Mrs. Monroe and began speaking to Grace like she was some type of volatile animal. "Heyyy, Grace. Are you okay?" She clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes. "I talked to the Dean to try to get this handled. The best that I could do was to get him to let you finish the school year from home and still have your grades as a student of the Academy. But he does not want you to come into the building again."

"Why didn't you have my back?" She asked.

"Sounds like he did have your back!" Her father fussed. 

"I am not talking to you right now, Dad!" She shrieked. Everyone froze and stared for a moment. Her father looked ready to angrily lash back, but her mother wrapped an arm around him and told Simon, "You'd better get her together, or else we'll have to."

"I'll take care of it," Simon said.

"I'll take care of it? You'll take CARE of it???" Grace repeated, then laughed and shook her head.

Simon watched her parents leave the terrace and he sat next to her. "You seem like you have some things on your mind."

Grace was wondering if she was the crazy one? He completely threw her under the bus at school and in front of her parents and they just… ate it up. "Do they know that I'M THE ONE that always has to keep you chill?"

"You're not that one right now."

"That's because you're being different. You're up to something and I can't figure out what?"

"I'm playing the game that we play with parents. You WANTED them to like me, did you not?"

"Not like this! They're not supposed to think you're better than me!"

"I see. I get it now. All those times when you insisted that we should be treated equally, you were just lying to me like you lie to everybody. And now that people are treating me good, you can't stand it."

"This isn't about PEOPLE, Simon, it's about MY PARENTS and how you're... you're... STEALING them!"

Simon tells her, "It's not my fault they like me more than you." Grace started crying. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "God, AGAIN with the crying. You're really a child."

"What is your problem? How can you say something like that to me when you know how I feel about my parents?"

He scoffed, "Yeah. And now we get to the truth about how you feel about me too. This is bigger than your stupid fucking parents." She looked at his face. He looked… like he was having a completely different conversation. His face would never let on that he had just said the mean things to her that he had just said. 

"Is… this about me leaving for school? You turned on me because I was gonna leave for school, Simon?"

"You lied to me. You betrayed the Apex."

"The Ape… Simon WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? The Apex doesn't have anything to do with this!"

"The Apex has everything to do with this!" He finally actually looked as mad at his words. "We were the Apex. Just you and me! We had everything we needed in each other. We belonged together. We built it together. It was our mark on the world. Our show of power and greatness… and you just threw it away! You threw ME away." He out his face into his hands and tried to catch his breath. She still didn't know what this even meant. 

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that it felt that way. I just wanted to do something for myself… if it makes you feel like this, I won't leave, Simon. We'll work it out…" 

He uncovered his face and it was surprisingly clear. She couldn't figure out what to think of him, but her heart was all over the place. Simon told Grace to calm down, but she was already sitting quietly, thinking, and she was getting mad that he was behaving like not only a stranger but a… horrible person! "I am calm," she said, though her teeth. "Just still very confused. Why are you being this way, Simon? I just gave you my virginity like a week ago.." her voice cracked.

He smirked, looked her right in the face and said, "That meant nothing to me."

She gasped and clutched her heart. This was… too much. Was she having a nightmare? Simon would never say these things to her. He would never hurt her. "Simon… are you saying that you don't even love me anymore?"

"I'm saying I don't even know who you are. The girl that I loved was strong, powerful and she cared about me. She wasn't a liar, pretending to love me until she could get away from me. Pretending to see me as an equal, but squirms anytime someone sides with me. She was worthy of respect. Whatever you are, you're not even worthy of her name. You're not worthy of respect. And you aren't worthy of love. You're nothing to me." 

She shook her head and looked out at the estate. Tears were pouring down her face. He put his hand on her back and rubbed it and for a moment, despite everything he had just said to her, she was relieved that he seemed gentle with her. But the he said, "Before I go, I want you to know that I actually did record us on purpose…" her head turned sharply to him and she stared at his thin lips as he said, "And I'm the one who leaked it." …Then...he smiled. 

Grace punched him in the teeth. He threw his hands up to cover his head. He knew her fighting style. She hit you in the face and head and neck. That's where she was swinging, but he was blocking well enough. So well, she was enraged and pulled his hair, twisting it in her fist to try to lift his head. Before she could strike him in the face again,she felt her mother's hands rip her away from him.

"Grace! You've caused us enough trouble with your violent outbursts! And now you’ve set your fists upon Simon?" All Grace could do was roar in anger, startling her mother.

Simon almost couldn’t hide his smirk. Luckily Mrs. Monroe was staring at her daughter (in horror), "I'm sorry, Mrs. M This was my fault. I didn't mean to make her so mad. I know how she gets when she gets mad…" Grace charged at him, but Mrs. Monroe stood between them and grabbed her wrists.

"WE will talk about this later!" She placed a hand on Simon's back and led him back into the house to assess the damage and be sure that he wasn't ready to sue like Shana's parents were.

Grace asked herself, "Am I fucking crazy?" Simon smirked at her as he walked away with her mom. "No. He's. Crazy. HE'S fucking crazy!" She grabbed a handful of her fro and leaned on the rail with the other hand, sobbing.

Simon turned to Mrs. Monroe and said, "You realize that I love her right?"

Mrs. Monroe became visibly tense as she replied, "I realize that there's some feelings between you that you believe are very strong, but I also know that my daughter is hard to love."

"That's not true! I loved Grace almost the moment I met her. She's very generous. She's helpful. She's protective, oh and she's genuine... being genuine is the most important trait of a friend."

While Mrs. Monroe wasn't paying attention to him, he and Grace looked at each other through the window, and he glared at her hatefully. She stormed through the living room and up the stairs, slamming the door behind her. 

Then, she just… cried again, and sat down on the floor. She's unsure to this day how long she sat there, but she knows that both of her parents came together, each separately, the housekeeper, the butler and some doctor tried to talk to her before she finally got up, went into her bathroom and resumed sitting in the bathtub. She was there for 13 hours. She remembers that much. Not much else. The entire time period was just… day after day of hurt. And he still wasn't done with her.


	15. The Rise of the True King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Institutionalization, abortion, potential stand your ground related trauma + References to warnings of previous chapter

“Everyone was terrified of her. You can ask anyone who went to the academy. She was a terrorist. She would lure you with her sweet-as-honey routine, and then she’d just flip and become this monster. Everyone who’s come out about her, I think, it’s much braver than me. Because even though I was close to her, I had a little bit of leeway for a while. As long as I did what she wanted me to do, I was safe. But when I no longer wanted to do what she wanted me to do… we became enemies.”

“I think it’s very brave of you to speak out, as well.”

“I just couldn’t live with myself if I let her get away with everything that she’s done. All of the violence, the bullying and oppression. She is literally a beast. A monster. Luckily, I was able to see her for what she was before it ruined my entire life…”

Grace cried, watching the interview in which Simon was saying these things about her.

Her mom walked in and asked, “What are you watching?” she saw Simon and ordered, “Turn it off.”

“Do you think that he really believes this or is he just an excellent liar?”

Her mother turned the TV off and took the remote from her, “Doesn’t matter whether he believes it or not. All that matters is that he’s saying it and everyone is hearing him. What matters is that you brought him into our life and now he’s soiling our good name all over television and the internet and in books and whatever else his voice can reach.”

“We were best friends…”

“Yeah, you told us that one before. Funny, he doesn’t seem to remember that. Maybe it never was. Gee, I wonder if anyone at all tried to warn you to stay away from this boy. If ONLY someone would have told you that he wasn’t right for you and that he didn’t love you…”

The past few months had been horrific. It began when Grace tried to get online and check to see if anything had been said about her video or her outburst at school. She panicked whenever she saw news about a video of her trending. She was temporarily relieved when she saw that it was her and Simon out on the terrace, then panicked again, because it had just occurred to her why he was moving so calmly… Because on video, it looked like he was gently speaking with her and trying to console her when she punched him in the face and started whaling on him. 

Grace Monroe is Over, Grace is Cancelled, Void Grace Monroe, and The Void were all connected to every post about her. “She’s an abuser! Poor Simon. I just want to give him a hug and brush his hair.” “I knew something wasn’t right about her. The sweet act seemed fake and manipulative and the Apex underneath her was rabid and vicious.” “Yoooo… I met her and she was so nice. This is bugging me out. WHY GRACE?” “This is precisely what I mean when I say abuse goes both ways. Girls can be abusive to boys too. I hope Simon has a good support system.”

She would have laughed if she could find some emotion other than hurt… She didn’t even know that she could hurt more after the fight, but somehow, she did. But, this wasn’t right. She had gone silent for days, but it wasn’t right that they got to spin things this way. MAYBE, she WAS a little violent, sometimes. But, she had NEVER hurt Simon, and certainly didn’t abuse him! And… she had been doing so much better. She had been checking her temper and her attacks. She had been less of a bully. It wasn’t that she wanted a cookie, but it hurt that she tried so hard to get herself away from her bad child routine, only to have her partner in crime let her be crucified this way. 

She threw on some clothes, knee pads, a mask and she snuck out of her fire escape. She just wanted to talk. Maybe the paparazzi caught this on tape and went running wild with it. Maybe… her Simon was in there somewhere. She took a car and left the gates, headed for Simon’s place.

Whenever she got there, she saw that the garage was open, but it had been cleaned out a lot. It didn’t look like a workroom anymore. She didn’t know if that meant that Mr. Laurent had finally gotten closure, or was moving to a different space. But, he was there. She didn’t know how much he knew. Usually, he didn’t acknowledge much that Simon did, but who knew WHAT Simon was doing or saying at this time. “Mr. Laurent?” she said as she approached. He turned suddenly then reached for a gun. ‘WHOA!” She put her hands up. “I’m sorry. I am gonna go…”

“You came into my sacred space, destroyed the memorial for my little girl, turned my son into a monster, and you just waltz up here without a care in the world?”

“I destroyed what? Hope’s memorial. I would never do something like…”

“Never say her name again. We have a restraining order on you. Now, I suggest you leave, before I have to stand my ground.”

“I didn’t do that,” she whispered as she got back into the car. “I would never do that…” She couldn’t believe that Simon would either. She was almost ready to pray to something or someone. That must’ve been what Simon had been talking about whenever they got into that fight a couple of weeks before. He let her take the fall for that, too? Was THAT story also circulating the Internet? Her phone rang and she answered it on the Bluetooth.

“My dad called the cops on you. You really should head back home.”

“Why did you do this to me? We couldn’t just… talk it out? I know that you’re hurting. I understand that…”

“You don’t understand anything. You’ve been spoiled from the moment you were conceived. You were given everything. You never had to work for any of it. You rose to the top, and it wasn’t enough for you. You needed everybody to like you. Didn’t care whether or not I did anymore. You didn’t even notice when I started to hate you.”

“I noticed… I just thought my brain was being mean to me. You know how our brains can do that, Simon? Maybe your brain was being really mean to you to make you think that I didn’t care, because I’ve always cared about you. I came over to talk because I love you.”

“Lies.” She heard a slight waiver in his voice. Maybe she imagined it. She sniffled. “Even if I had been wrong about you, I’ve made certain that you could never look at me the same way again. I’ve done everything necessary to stop you. Nobody could still love someone after everything that I’ve done.”

“That’s not true. I can love you through anything. I always have.” She heard a sniffle on his end, then he let out a chuckle. She envisioned him dotting his finger at the corner of his eye to catch his single man tear. “Simon… let’s just meet up and talk. I’m upset, but we can still change.”

“Why would I ever want to change when I’m always right?” He asked, hypothetically. She knew that it wasn’t something that he truly believed, or at least… she didn’t think he did. It was something that she used to say to him whenever he was worried about something. She was always just saying stuff to him to make him feel better, and maybe that was his point in throwing this back in her face. 

“Simon, why are you always worried about stuff when you’re always right?” she’d asked, and now she couldn’t remember the context of that question, but maybe he had a point. Maybe she was a liar, even to him. But… she didn’t mean any harm. She meant to help him. Everybody had always been so bad to him. She was sensitive. She couldn’t stand to see the boy she loved be in pain. She unfortunately had just stood there, in denial while that boy died. “I’m sorry, Simon,” she whimpered.

“Don’t be. I’ve already handled the problem myself, Void.” He hung up on her. 

When she pulled back into the gates that night, the police were there. 

It went from her sneaking out to “stalk and harass” Simon, to them wanting to search her room for items that they believed would tie her to various crimes. Her parents were livid, fussing at the police and calling lawyers. The police were insisting that they would wait for a judge to give them a warrant if they had to. 

“Young Lady, if you have a Hope Chest with criminal souvenirs in it, the best thing to do is to cooperate with us, and maybe the judge will go easy on you.”

“I have a Hope Chest with criminal souvenirs in it,” she said. At this point, fuck it. Her life was over. She might as well go to prison too, or wherever Simon was sending her. “Simon gave me things, and that’s where I kept them. Kids always gave me things, but I’ve kept Simon’s in my chest…”

“Stop talking to them, Grace! We’re on the phone with the lawyer,” her father said and to the officer said, “We TOLD you that we were contacting our lawyer and that you were not allowed to speak to her. She is a minor and you didn’t read her any rights. Nothing that you just coerced her to say matters.”

“Am I going to jail?” Grace asked the police officer. “I’m trying to cooperate…”

The woman officer looked sad for her. The man was simply annoyed by her parents making things harder.

At the end of the night, they were able to convince the Monroes to drive Grace to the precinct to make her statement, and they were given a search warrant and Grace gave them the hope chest in question. After everything, she couldn’t believe how painful it was to let go of this. But, it was understandable too. This was years of tokens of Simon’s friendship and love (and maybe even worship). Simon had taken back everything he’d ever given her from his heart. She would have thought that would have been her breaking point.

The lawyers would have to battle to prove that all of these things were given to her and that she wasn’t associated with the crimes in question, but Simon, being the little shit he was had what was tantamount to a ledger of crimes and the souvenirs that were taken from them. Some of them Grace was present for, some she wasn’t. Simon was giving the information up, so that made him look less guilty, like she had somehow maneuvered all of it. She would admit that she was responsible for a few. But, more often than not, Simon’s temper brought on a lot of these crimes. She simply had been so fond of him that she liked that about him. They were young. It was them against the world.

But, with this new narrative of her being a juvenile delinquent and puppet master, Simon had to look even more sympathetic. How, you ask? Releasing his “journals.” Simon had notebooks full of his obsession with Grace and the things that he would do for her. While her lawyers insisted that if anything, they should prove that SIMON was responsible for these things, there were going to be doubts. Grace had been the one to establish their presence at the Academy. People hadn’t touched him because they knew that she was powerful enough to shield him. She had bent fingers back. She had uppercut Shana. She had punched Simon repeatedly on her terrace, for simply talking to her.

Her parents insisted that she tell them what they could use against him, starting with why she had attacked him on the terrace. They were getting desperate to clean this matter up. She couldn’t do it, and she knew that Simon knew that she wouldn’t. She knew that Simon knew that there was no way that her mouth would ever admit to her parents that Simon made a sex tape of her and spread it around the school. If they were going to find that out, it couldn’t be from her.

And now, still going through settlements, trying to keep her record clean, and a very emotionally disturbing trip to the gynecologist, there she was, watching him on TV, speaking about her this way. Her mother, who couldn’t even be bothered to hold her hand as she cried about having to have an abortion at the edge of 17, standing there judging her and giving her “I told you so’s.” This boy was ruining every fabric of her. He knew her from the inside out and he was ripping everything to shreds and making everybody witness it…

"We loved each other, once. The things we did for each other, with each other…”

“It is an embarrassment to our reputation and to your father and I, personally. We thought we raised you better than this. We even accepted it when you brought that common rodent into our home, into our lives, and we treated him like he was worthy of respect because you asked personally. We should have known not to listen to you. You make bad choices. You’re not very smart. You’re difficult to love. It was such a wonder that you even had a friend, that we accepted him. Even though he was nothing more than vermin… and he proved that we’ve been right not to associate with the likes of common folk. You played with your pet rat, then left him outside of his cage. And now he’s covered our name in filth. Best friend… he clearly never thought you were worth anything. The moment he found a route to success without you, he took it. Left you criminalized, brokenhearted and pregnant. We taught you better than this.”

“You didn’t teach me a goddamn thing!” 

Mrs. Monroe slapped Grace in the face at that declaration. She had never been so bold before to do this. She’d usually cut Grace down with words, maybe a little force of hand. But just to slap her in the face? Never before. Then again, Grace had been infuriating for months. Not cooperating with the people trying to save her from this Simon mess, making them look bad, making terrible decisions… PREGNANT? She came crying, in the midst of a massive media scandal and a dive from high society to add to her growing criminal accusations that she spent an entire weekend letting that scarecrow impregnate her? Her mother had had it. On top of all this, she dares to curse at her and raise her voice? 

But, when she slapped her in the face, Mrs. Monroe immediately regretted it. Maybe there was some truth to Grace’s accusation. Because, how else could she have fucked up this royally with such a substandard child as Simon Laurent? These were things that she thought about all in a moment’s time. Because when she parted her lips to apologize, for once for losing her temper so badly and slapping her only daughter in the face, she didn’t get the chance to speak it out loud. Instead, she met the Grace that the kids were allegedly afraid of. She had to admit, that was terrifying.

Grace roared and attacked, at this point, angry at her mother, angry at Simon, angry at herself… Mostly herself. She had lost her only friend. She wasn’t perfect. She failed him, her parents, herself… and she didn’t even have a career anymore. She didn’t even have his tokens anymore. She didn’t have… a baby… that she would have been hard pressed NOT to love with all of her heart, even coming from him. But, she knew that with all of this, there was no way that she could add, “teenage mother” and that kid probably would have been taken away from her like everything else.

Next thing she knew, she was at the mental facility. She heard them promising to take care of her. She heard them ask her parents about scheduling visits. she heard her father sternly say, "We will not be back unless you contact us to tell us you’ve fixed her.” she cried. So, now they believed in getting her help? When she was so far gone that she couldn’t think straight? or… was this just goodbye? She caused them so much distress they decided that they’d rather shut her away than ever have to deal with her failures again? She began to pace, crying profusely. She had never been this alone before… and her only comfort now was a needle that forced her to sleep.

Simon received a barrage of tags and he opened the story to see multiple publications covering Grace being dragged from her home, kicking and screaming and being brought into a mental institution. His heart stopped. His first impulse was to cry. He felt the tears creeping up, but he cleared them away fast. It wasn’t his fault she turned him against her. This was what she got for misleading him. He smirked and reposted her screaming like a demon while they tried to get her into the vehicle, with the caption, “Stop sending me this shit.”

He was closing a book deal about all of this. There had been reports of seeing Grace be concealed and sneaking to a facility where it was speculated that teenage elites go to “get rid of certain problems.” A few Apex girls admitted that it was THE go to place for a rich girl to have a quiet abortion. That was the main thing that they went there for, though a few said that it was also to confirm pregnancies before sending them off (for the more religioso types) and to “hide an attack or abuse” for the straight up monsters raising teen girls. The point was that everyone seemed to agree that there was no way that Grace was going there for anything other than handling a pregnancy however the Monroes saw fit.

On the one hand, he couldn’t imagine ever having a family with anyone else, at one point. On the other, he was rising to his true form. 17 now, and famous without her. Every publisher wanted his book. Every personality wanted an interview. Every student wanted to stay in his good graces. Colleges were looking at his situation as a survivor and a scholar, helping him transition from the break up between himself and the Monroes, and he had taken the Apex over. Grace was voided. He had won. The true king had risen, with a new vision for his future. Over time, he knew that the old dreams would fade. Her face, her laugh, her eyes, the scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth when she held him close and cupped his face, the shivers it sent through him when she lied and said that she cared, that she loved him, that she was his…

He couldn’t get close to anyone else. It just wasn’t possible. Even if he thought he could trust someone. All they had to do to make him think about her was enter his personal space, and he couldn’t have that. He dreamed about her, still. About their good times. He even sometimes thought that when they gave themselves to each other that she was sincere, that this access to her body wasn’t just another weapon that she was using to make him her slave. Because, she almost had him that weekend. He was ready to give up everything he planned to do to take her out. He was ready to submit to her again and settle for whatever warped notion of love she expected him to take. 

Then, he’d remembered his vision of the void that had taken her away from him. He remembered the impending loneliness of her being the one with the power to leave him. He pushed the feeling of her body and their fake union from his mind long enough to do what needed to be done. After that, everything started falling into place. 

By the time he watched the videos and some with remixes of her own songs (his favorite being one about being “Taken Away” (by love) as she was dragged off… he realized that all of his fondness of them was basically dried up. Without that attachment holding him back, his mind couldn’t even fathom how far he could go.


	16. Introducing Hazel Doe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The past few chapters have been rough, seeing characters go from questionable and suspicious into their worse versions of themselves, but now that we’ve gotten past those things, there’s no other way that they could go but up, Amen?Amen. Here is a somewhat sad, but hopefully sweeter chapter than what I’ve taken all of you through in the last few. Thank you to anybody still able to read. I’ma dedicate this to the lil’ home @strawdool Because, I have put Friend THROUGH it.   
> Trigger Warnings: Abortion mentions, grieving, abandonment issues, institutionalization.

The facility was more like a complex. There were different centers, in this cluster and she was in a private room, but had to go to the main center for appointments and activities. She didn’t like being alone so much, but since everything had happened, maybe that was for the best. She had a personal caretaker, because her file indicated that she was prone to violence + she was rich. Someone had to make sure that she didn’t explode on anyone and also make her go to all of her appointments. She wasn’t very responsible when it came to things that she didn’t want to do. 

Grace looked out of the window down at the children from the children’s wing playing on the playground. Real talk, she kinda wanted to go with them. Swinging seemed fun right now and she hadn’t in a few years and her caretaker would probably take her if she asked… Then, she saw her for the first time. 

She was a little (potentially biracial) girl, with coarse, wavy, long blond hair with a leaf in it. The girl wasn’t playing with any of the kids… which wasn’t extremely unusual. Several of those kids were doing their own thing and just happened to be near the other children in their group. But this girl stood out to her because not only was she sitting still, in a fetal position, but she was staring right up at Grace. Why was this kid looking at her? Nobody seemed to notice it, and why was she laying like _that._ Her arms and legs collected to herself and her eyes piercing into Grace.

Grace furrowed her eyebrows, twisted the rod on her blinds to close them and went to head for her afternoon activities. That wasn’t the last time she saw that girl.

The next time, Grace was in the music room, picking out an instrument for the music time that they allotted her and she heard something shuffling around in a chest. She knew better to investigate it, but also… nothing interesting ever happened here. Mostly just her poking at her emotional wounds with a sharp, jagged stick, so she dared to open the chest and saw the kid in it. Once again, the girl went into a fetal position, this time, not staring at her, but Grace couldn’t help but be shaken by this. She screamed when she saw her and ran out of the music room, with a ukulele. “Ms. Monroe! Where are you taking that?” She heard behind her. She dropped it and kept running to the bathroom.

“Okay. Okay… maybe she just wants to tell you something. Maybe she’s here to THANK you… for… for sparing her. She was gonna be the biggest mistake that you and Simon ever made. One or both of you would’ve hated her. You did her a kindness." 

"Or, you were being as selfish as ever before. Simon hurt your feefees and so you got rid of his baby,” her own reflection said back to her.

“Simon did far more than hurt my "feefees” and any child that would have come from the both of us would have been DOOMED. I did all of us a favor. I had no choice…" The reflection shrugged her shoulders, her face not convinced about Grace’s conviction. 

Grace jumped towards her, like she was going to punch her, but jumped back, because of course, it was her reflection and paid her with the very same response. Why for a moment it had used her inner voice to haunt her, she had no clue. Just like she didn’t know why the girl kept appearing to her. “Maybe I should see what she has to say,” she decided.

It was days before she saw her again. When she did, she was sitting on a bench, watching the other kids play. Grace’s group fortunately had outside time at the same time with the kids that day. Fortunately? She’s not real. The schedule doesn’t matter…

Grace sat next to her and the girl perked up and looked at her in awe. It was the first time she seemed this responsive, and her reaction alone indicated that she wanted to be able to engage with Grace, further cementing in Grace’s mind that this was some type of visitor or some type of vision. Whatever the case, she was going along with it.

“Hey. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.for what I did. I mean… no… that’s not right. I’m not sorry. I had to do what I did. I know that you’re just here to make me think about things, and it’s working. I’ll always think about you and who you could’ve been. I just want you to know that I only would’ve wanted what was best for you and at that time, I’m sure that was it.” The girl looked confused. “I won’t get in the way, if you have something that you need to tell me.”

The girl studied her with a “Hmmmm” sound, then announced, “I can turn into a turtle! Bye bye, Pretty Lady! Thank you for letting me tell you what I needed to say. I feel so much better now.” She got up and rushed off. 

Grace sat there confused. “I guess I have to research turtles for the significance of that message…” she wrapped herself up in her cardigan and went to see if she could get an escort to the library.

“Turtles are a symbol of good luck… oooh, that’s nice! Apart from being thought of as very lucky, they also symbolize strength, longevity and hope. They are symbolic of a steadfast tranquility – safe in the knowledge that they can survive during bad times until things improve for the better.” She started crying… “Does… this mean that she’s here to help grant this to me, to be a sign that I can be this? Or is she here to show me what I can never have because I sacrificed her?” She spent another week hoping the girl would reveal herself to her again. She would ask her about this. 

When she saw her next, she was crawling beneath a bush. Grace rushed over and crouched. “Hey… I need to talk to you about last time.” The girl didn’t react to Grace’s words. “See… I’ve read about this before in a book. So, I’m gonna just think of you as Beloved, even though I hope that you aren’t going to spend all of that time haunting me, but I was confused by the turtle message, and I want to see if I can get some clarity… What are… what are you doing?” The girl had put her face down in the grass and started biting. “You can’t eat that!” Grace said and reached to stop her. She. Was. Bitten. Grace screamed and held her hand, breathing heavy. How could she feel that?

“Grace?” her caregiver called. 

“She bit me!” Grace said, shocked.

Another worker came to collect the girl and apologized to Grace. “We should get that addressed.” 

Grace looked at her hand, “That girl is real?” She asked, pointing with her good hand.

The workers gave each other a look. “Of course she is. Have… you been having hallucinations, Grace?” That was a potential side effect of one of her medications and they must’ve been worried.

Grace touched the bite mark. “Guess not.” She stared at the child on the way back to get her bite mark tended to. She was hardly moving until one of the workers went to try to remove a leaf from her hair and she started flailing. Grace was startled, but the other worker said, “Leave it, leave it… We just leave it there when she’s awake.” To Grace she said, “Sorry that she got away from us. The new girl must’ve neglected to read her file.” 

Grace wanted to read her file too. “She can talk, right? Because she talked to me last time I saw her, but not today.”

The worker rocked her head from side to side in thought for an answer that she could give Grace without violating any of the girl’s rights. “She can talk. She probably won’t right now, but yes… sometimes she talks. Sometimes, she doesn’t stop talking,” she booped the girl on the nose and sat her down in a seat. “They really should stop trying to assign other staff members to you,” she said, getting paperwork out that Grace knew was about to go on the girl’s record. This kid was like 4, 5 or something. Small.

“Hey… I’m okay. You don’t have to like write anything down on her. I wouldn’t want that to be in her file or whatever…” Grace said.

“That’s very sweet of you and I’ll note that you said so in my report, but we unfortunately have to make note of all incidents, for legal purposes.”

“I’m never gonna be a legal problem for her or you…”

“Pretty Lady… nice try, but my file is full of stuff. This is just one little thing,” she finally spoke.

“Hazel… Nice to have you back with us,” the worker said. “ _Someone_ bit Miss Grace Monroe here today.” Hazel looked at Grace, noticed her hand and clutched her shirt tightly with both hands. Grace… stared at the gesture. She remembered when she used to do that, usually whenever she was nervous. “What do you think you should say to her?” The worker asked the girl.

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Hazel said, but her eyes told that she was embarrassed and sorry. 

“It’s okay,” Grace said. “I’ve done much worse things to many more people. Maybe this is part of my atonement.”

“What’s atonement?” Hazel wondered.

Grace’s caretaker escorted her back to where she was meant to be. That subject wasn’t something that Grace could be talking to a small child about. She heard the girl ask the worker, “What is atonement? That lady took Grace before she could answer!”

.

Grace would ask the staff that helped her with the bite about Hazel when she saw her. Sometimes, she wasn’t assigned to her that day, sometimes she was “in arts and crafts” or stuck in her room for timeout. Grace was beginning to worry about her, after a couple of weeks passed and she was never around.

When Grace saw the kid again and made a beeline to her and sat next to her again. She smiled up at her. “I’m a girl today. Your hand is safe.” Grace nodded and smiled back. “I’m sorry. I would’ve said it before, but I don’t like when they try to make me say it. I was gonna say it on my own! I don’t like when people try to control me.”

“Like I said, it’s okay. So… where’s your watcher?” Grace looked around and spotted the lady. “There she is. So, Hazel, was it?”

“Yeah. Hazel Doe.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Some dude in a hospital picked it because of my eye color and lack of parents. I was there for a while, from being so sick, so it stuck. Usually, they like to let the family name you, but it’s hard to stick when they know that you might be sick and stuff. I kept the random hospital name.”

“Oh,” Grace said sadly.

“I mean… I like it. Sounds kinda like a superstar. Introducing Hazel Doe…!” She cheered and then wrapped herself in her sweater, blushing. “That’s silly. I’m just trying to make myself look cool.” 

“Hey… You are cool! You’re wearing a tie and I like the signature leaf in your hair. Is it… does it mean something?”

Hazel bit her lip and she took it out, “No, not this one. But, there was a story they told me that whenever I was found and taken to the hospital, there was a leaf in my hair. It’s kinda… the only thing that I feel like is like my old life.” She shrugged her shoulders and put it back in. “I’m no savage. I change them out as they die. Sometimes, they’re special, if something really great happens while I have them with me, but that doesn’t happen a whole lot.” Grace didn’t know what to say. They were quiet for a moment, then Hazel asked, “Who is Beloved?”

Grace blinked and said, “Oh… This character in a book…” Grace thought about the book content and decided it wasn’t really for a little kid. “She was the… long lost daughter of another character…” _That wasn’t a complete lie. She was a ghost haunting her mother, but…_

“That sounds sad. I don’t like sad books.”

“What books do you like?” Grace asked, genuinely interested, as she tucked her hands between her thighs with her legs held together at the ankles.

“Hmmm… Ones with pictures of animals. Do you like any books that aren’t sad?”

“Yeah… I like lots of books. Mostly about family and friends.” 

Hazel frowned. “Those can be sad too.”

“Tell me about it,” Grace said.

“No. You tell me about yours.”

Grace glanced at their workers, watching them closely, but out of earshot. “My family and friends are how I got here.”

“They abandoned you?” Hazel asked, teary eyed.

“Sort of. I gt really mad at my mom for not really being there for me after my friend turned on me, or maybe I turned on him, I don’t know.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Hazel said.

Grace laughed, “You don’t even know me.”

“I know that you were nice to me whether I was a girl or a turtle, and you tried to make sure that I didn’t get in trouble. If you do that for strangers, I think you do it for friends.” 

Grace teared up as she admitted, “I felt a little connected, I guess. This is gonna sound stupid, but before the bush incident, I thought you were my kid…”

“You have a kid???” Hazel asked.

“No. I mean. I was… I would’ve. I had to let them go.” She shrugged her shoulders, sadly.

“Why would anybody ever have to let their kid go?” Hazel asked, a little heartbroken to learn this about her new friend.

“I would have been bad for them. I would have been here, still, I’m sure and I would have spent years failing as I figured out what to do. I had a bad mom and I think I would’ve been a bad mom. And I didn’t want to do that to myself or to them, the kid that they might have become.”

“There’s books for that, Grace,” Hazel said. “But… Why did you think _I_ was your kid? Did you leave them in the bushes?”

“No! No… I wouldn’t have done that. My mom took me to a doctor and the doctor used their knowledge to take them - him or her or whoever.”

“Did they get named?”

 _Yes._ “They weren’t big enough to get named,” Grace said, flippantly.

“If you’re thinking of them, they were big to you.”

 _Fuck._ “How are you so smart?”

“I’ve had to go to a lot of different homes and in and out of hospitals and stuff. You pick up a little bit of something everywhere…” Grace hummed. They were quiet for a while. “Did you say goodbye to them?” Hazel saw that Grace looked like she might cry, and matched her body language, but added, “It helps to say goodbye.” Grace let a tear fall and she wiped it with the back of her hand. Hazel took her hand away from her face and said, “And it helps to let it out.” 

She stood up and pulled Grace along, back to the bush that she had been under when she bit Grace. “I don’t have a mom and you don’t have a kid, but we can always have this bush.” Grace was confused. “They weren’t big enough to name, so I think you didn’t bury them. You didn’t choose something to represent them when you said goodbye. You can do that here.”

Grace shook her head, “I don’t… It’s complicated. I don’t _need_ to say goodbye..” Hazel stared at her suspiciously. “I mean… sure, I thought for a moment that maybe you were them, haunting me for getting rid of them, but… I had to. I couldn’t take care of them. Even if I wanted to try, my mother wouldn’t have allowed that…”

“You can say goodbye to her too,” Hazel said with the shrug of her shoulders.

“My mom’s alive.”

“Mine probably is too… But she isn’t here when I need her, so what’s the point?” Grace’s eyes went wide. That was surprisingly a good point. Maybe her mom was dead to her. 

But, Grace shook her head, “She’s alive and living well. If there’s anybody I should say goodbye to, it’s me. I feel like i lost myself, and I mourn that, even though I don’t even know if I ever knew who I was.”

“We are supposed to be here to change,” Hazel said with a shrug.

Grace said, “Here lies Grace, as she was. She met a really cool kid who is very smart, right here at this spot, and it’s the best thing that’s happened to her in a long time.”

“You got bitten,” Hazel reminded her, blushing.

“Bitten by greatness!” Grace said. Hazel’s eyes lit up and she fought a smile.

Hazel spoke next, “You’re supposed to say something nice, so… I haven’t known Grace long, but she’s very pretty and seems really nice. I’m sorry that her friends and family killed her and her kid. If she’s not strong enough right now, I will lay them to rest for her. Her mother. Her kid. Her friend. Grace can say goodbye to all of that. She’s got me to protect her, now.” 

Grace knelt in front of Hazel and looked into her eyes, “Hey… It isn’t your job to protect me. I wouldn’t let you put yourself in that position.”

“I told you that I don’t like people trying to control me,” Hazel said, with a half smile. 

“Hazel! Time to go inside!” The caregiver called. 

The other children were being collected and Hazel rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll see you again, Grace.” Hazel removed the leaf from her hair and handed it to Grace, then plucked one off of the bush to replace it. “That one’s special now. Because it was there when we became friends.” Grace’s eyes were filled with tears again. 

“Ivory,” Grace whispered.

“What?”

“They would’ve been called Ivory.”

“They ARE called Ivory,” Hazel corrected and went to join the line back to the children’s ward.

Grace’s caretaker showed up now and watched her staring at the bush. “Are you ready for music therapy?” Grace tilted her head in thought. She hadn’t written any music since she got in. She had been only playing songs she knew, to occupy her time, but she felt like writing, now. She nodded and let her escort bring her. She had a song to write about today, about saying goodbye when she should… and about Hazel. 

She practiced it during music therapy, as she taught herself to play the ukulele. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to. Maybe because ti was so different than something that she might have done before, and she wanted to find herself and try everything out to see what made her happy. She didn’t tell Hazel that she was working on it, but an arrangement was made for her to be able to perform in the children’s ward as a treat. 

The girl was really excited about it. Some of the children were in their own worlds. Grace was warned that most of them might not pay attention, and most of them didn’t. But, Hazel did. Grace looked out at the audience. she saw a spotlight on some chairs, where were her parents, Simon with a Baby Ivory on his lap, waving their little hand at mommy. Hazel shouted, “Play Freebird!” and Grace laughed. The seats were empty of her old family, and the spotlight was on her new little friend as she found the confidence to begin her minimal ukulele skills in front of a bunch of children who didn’t care. But one did. She was smiling in excitement and clenching her clip on tie in both fists.

_I said goodbye to the dead today._

_Wanted to hold them close to my chest, wanted them to stay._

_I let go of a fear or two._

_I’ve always kept those guarded, hoping that wouldn’t show through._

_But, I found something in all of this dark._

_Some wisdom, some little spark,_

_That lit up in front of me so that I could see myself, and lay all of those broken pieces to rest._

_I knew that I’d be better, but I never expected Hazel, though. Hazel though._

_I knew I could grow, but I didn’t know about Hazel though._

_But now, I know. You’re a superstar. Introducing Hazel Doe._


	17. A Song About Simon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t think that there’s any triggers in here besides the fact that Grace is still in the institution (which will be maybe another chapter or two, depending on how writing goes), and her and Hazel’s issues from previous chapters. I just want to announce here, like I’ve already told fandom familiars... I do not hold any of you to trying to read this story or any story that I may write. I do appreciate if someone reads, but I also understand that everything is not for everybody, I’m not for everybody, and my work isn’t either. At no time do I feel entitled to your reading and nobody should feel pressured to try to read anything that I write. I will love to hear from y’all and know that you enjoy reading, but if you can’t or don’t, that is your right, Folks. This is an ugly story with ugly content and hard topics, but even if it wasn’t, you still wouldn’t have to read, review, or reblog. I just want to make that clear for those of you in my space. Thanks for your time.

Whenever she first arrived, she was scared to get the help that she knew she needed. She always thought about how her parents had shot down the idea of it whenever her old driver was concerned. How they seemed to feel like it would mean that the work that they put into her as parents would be ruined if she needed mental help. Then, she would think about her 16th birthday, when her mother said that maybe he was right… the way it felt like her mother was saying that at that moment, she knew that Grace was a waste. _“You’ll regret it…”_ her voice echoed in Grace’s mind. _“If only someone had warned you…”_ The last day that she saw her. 

Months had passed. Her parents didn’t even visit. Someone still controlled her social media. Because videos of her singing at the facility and captions insisting that she was getting the help she needed would show up. Grace didn’t know who was responsible for that, at the time, but all of the comments were disabled on all of her accounts. She didn’t want to imagine what people would have to say about her trying to recover. **  
**

Eventually, she warmed up to her doctor and the staff. She warmed up to her treatment, to the fact that she had to get better before anybody would let her go anywhere. Her goals became forgiving Simon, accepting responsibility for the things that she did and potentially reaching out to him to suggest that he try to get help as well. She knew that the first and last ones would be the hardest for her, so focusing more on self growth and accountability became her brand of help, at the moment. At least, she went through the motions.

Some days were better than others. Sometimes, she got onto the computer in the library and searched his name. He seemed like he was doing fine, in terminology, but he didn’t look great. That was a lie. He looked great. He was a little more muscular and his hair had grown out. He looked like maybe he had tattoos, though she couldn’t see what. But, he didn’t look happy. Good, she told herself. Even if she wondered in the back of her mind if that was an accurate observation, wishful thinking or unconditional love causing her to worry. Sometimes, she checked his social media pages to see what he was talking about. 

She watched him receive badges, be crowned prom king, be valedictorian, travel to go to MIT… He really seemed like nothing was bothering him. He had thrown her to the wolves and just smoothly carried on… She would always be mad all over again, that he didn’t even care. It wasn’t even everything that he did to her! It was… but more importantly, it was the fact that he was able to do it and live like it was nothing to him. 

But, that usually made for a very progressive therapy day, and a productive music session. She’d asked her caregiver about the posts on her social media. That was who she eventually found out was responsible for curating the content during her stay in here. “What about my rights?” Grace wondered. She had been creating a lot lately and whenever something got posted, she didn’t know the copyright status or anything legal pertaining to her very personal art! 

“Your team takes care of all of the details like that. I basically just post and properly word updates about your healing process and progress. Your team decides which posts to make public or private. (I always post them privately, and sometimes someone comes in later to make things public).”

“It just doesn’t seem fair. I’m being my most authentic self, trying to be my best self and things that I use to get there are now being subjected to my mother and her team of handlers for me.”

“I can’t speak on feelings about it, but as of right now, you are still a minor and still in our care. That means that your welfare and decisions are decided by your parents, who are your legal guardians and us, who you’re a ward of. Whenever you turn 18, if you are mentally capable enough, you will be able to have more control over that type of thing.”

“I’m 18 pretty soon! But… mentally capable… I mean… I feel like I’m mentally capable enough to discuss my legal rights to my art, but I don’t know if I’m capable of like… rejoining society…”

“Well, whenever you do turn 18, we’ll talk about how you’re feeling and assess what you’re capable of. In the meantime, you can always tell me if there’s something that you just want to keep for you, and I promise, I won’t post it. But, your music and the fact that you’re creating in here is inspiring a lot of young people struggling with mental illness and it is warming people up to you since the scandal that led to you being here.”

“I… don’t care about those people right now. I just… want to heal and create.” 

“Fair enough.”

_Stingray Lyrics_

_You were burrowed in the sand._

_I didn't know that you were there._

_I reached out my hand,_

_only to connect with someone…_

_But you weren't prepared for my touch._

_You didn't know that I would never hurt you._

_I dug in a little too much,_

_And in your startled state you made me regret it._

_Like a stingray, you were so cute._

_Just living life, just doing you._

_But I had to reach for something else, I HAD to have you for myself and it stung me._

_Getting too close to you really stung me._

She scribbled the words down, humming the melody. She wasn’t sure if Simon was out there somewhere being bothered to even think about her, but if he was, she wanted him to have to see or hear things about himself.

There wasn’t sheet music in here, but she could use her notebook and sort of guess where the lines would be. She had requested sheet music weeks ago! She was trying to teach Hazel how to read music, too. They usually were able to spend time together twice a week. Technically, they weren’t assigned to the same areas, but one of the caretakers would always make an exception and help them to see each other, because they just seemed to be really good for each other. Neither of them had any other friends there. 

They weren’t antisocial, but they just only really clicked with each other, and Hazel had not been thinking she was a turtle nearly as much since she met Grace, and Grace’s almost entire first year there had been monotonous and for the most part stagnant until she met Hazel. Hazel seemed to make her want to be better, want to move forward on something other than the pendulum of attacking herself and defending herself for things she did and didn’t do. Hazel helped her to really seem to grasp empathy. 

.

They were stretching, silently, getting ready for the dance lessons that Grace would give her near the playground, during activity time. Grace was really quiet, with Hazel was singing to herself. Suddenly, she wondered, “Grace, did either of your parents sing to you when you were a child?”

Grace scoffed and shook her head, “No. Neither of my parents did any of the TV parent stuff. My dad was a lawyer, politician, and ambassador. My mom was a high paid performer turned model turned socialite, the daughter of someone just like my father. Most of their parenting was instilling a certain image on me, or having a nanny take me away if I didn’t quite fit the bill in time enough for guests or appearances.”

“What’s ‘appearances?’”

“It’s like when you have to go somewhere just to be seen. For my dad’s job, there were political or business meet and greets, sometimes charity functions, auctions and stuff like that, and at times it was simply an extremely elegant dinner party or some dignitary’s kid’s birthday event. _My_ last birthday party was…” She frowned, thinking about how that night ended. The beginning of the end in her mind. She looked at the charm bracelet that she had managed to still never take off, despite everything. 

“Was what?” Hazel wondered.

“Too much. It was too much. I’ve always lived pretty extravagantly, but I think whenever I leave here, I might like to get an isolated place and sort of just live there with maybe a pet or something. I’m never going to have guests over for dinner parties or house any ambassadors.”

“Can I come over?” Hazel wondered, timidly.

“Yes! Of course, if your parents let you…”

“I’m never gonna have parents.”

“Hazel!” Grace called. The younger girl just shrugged her shoulders. Grace sputtered air out of her lips and shrugged too. “Well, who needs them, anyway?” 

Hazel threw her a look. “I do, Grace. I need them. I’m 6.”

Grace frowned. “I know. I’m sorry. You’re right. I have a really bad habit of saying whatever I think is gonna make people I care about feel better. It's one of the things that I need to work on. Of course you need parents. Every child needs parents… which is why I’ve gotta believe that you’ll get some! And whenever you do, they’ll hopefully let us be friends. We have a very big age gap, so I don’t know how comfortable they’ll be with you just coming over.” Hazel looked like she was thinking about something as she stared ahead, but she was still standing, so Grace figured she wasn’t a turtle right now. “Ready to learn our new hip hop routine?” Now, she blinked and looked at Grace with enthusiasm, nodding vigorously.

.

Making time to put together figures was hard, but Simon had all of his figures with him whenever he moved from his family house shortly after the clash with the void. The fame that he had risen to over his scandalous book deal and all of the allegations against it had gotten him a very comfortable situation. He was wealthy, in his own right, and schools that he might have needed Mr. Monroe to get into previously were no longer something to be dangled in front of his face. He actually missed the Monroes. Mrs. Monroe less than her husband, but both of them. They really weren’t as bad as she made them out to be. He believed that much. But… they belonged to her. He could have them on his side for a while, but not after all of this. He hated not having Mr. Monroe to bounce things off of. He’d sacrificed a mentor to get rid of the void. 

He had tried not to pull them into it, but eventually, the narrative began that her parents were using him, as well. That he was something to taper their wild-child and as soon as he stood up for himself was financially cut off. Mr. Monroe had been very public about the fact that unfortunately, they knew nothing of their daughter’s extreme condition until she viciously attacked her mother. Simon would have paid money to see that cat-fight. Simon felt bad for them, having lost their daughter to the void, so he withdrew accusations of the crimes, though several of them couldn’t be taken back, as the victims wanted to sue personally. But, the Monroes fared fine, after all of the settlements or wins. Simon wondered whatever happened to the charm bracelet, but he pushed that from his mind. 

He still carried the name The Apex, though many companies used that or had it in their name, so he couldn’t trademark it, but the general of his Apex was that if you were tagging The Apex, Simon Says was also there.

He took his book opportunity as his big chance to move forward with his other works. They didn’t sell as well, but he could say at 17 that he was a bestselling author for Free From Grace, and that by 18, he had published several books from throughout his adolescence and had a huge trilogy deal that he intended to have released by the time he was 20. 

Senior year in high school was a blast. He was worshiped and kids who had only held allegiance to him via the void either came around or were fun to alienate as nulls. Shana rose to popularity and the two of them continued their banter, a little will they won’t they brewing, as far as he was concerned. She got rid of her weave and replaced them with braids for going natural. Apparently, she was going to be going to an HBCU and she wanted to finally wear her hair “the way it was intended,” when she got there. It made her look ever more like Grace to him, despite the fact that Grace had never worn braids, only locs, and the full out afro she had whenever she left. 

Maybe he was just weakening again… missing her… “Hey, Shana - we should attend the prom together,” he said, as they sat across from each other at their desks in the newsroom.

She looked up at him with only her eyes, not lifting her head from her work, but he could still see the disdain in her eyebrows. “For what reason would I ever even consider something like that?” 

He laughed and leaned back in his seat. “We’re the apex of the student body.” She groaned at the word that she was BEYOND sick of hearing. “You’re the most popular girl in school now, and while not my equal, the best of what we have. We both know that you and I will be class favorites and prom king and queen. Might as well make an entire thing out of it.”

She raised her head now and he was confused by her expression, because it was still clearly disdainful. “Simon. I don’t care if I was going to win a cash prize of a million dollars. I would never even so much as think about attending anything with you. Thanks for asking.” She shook her head in disbelief and continued working.

“Why not? Did you not hear the reasons this works out perfectly?”

“I heard the reasons that you think I’m a status symbol that for whatever reason would actually want to be seen with you. They weren’t reasons that I would overlook who you are as a person and how I feel about you as such to put on some sort of publicity show for a bunch of kids that I’m never going to see again, because if I ever come to a class reunion, it would be to see if Grace showed up and how she’s doing.”

“Nothing that you said makes any sense. Me as a person? I…”

“You’re a bad person,” she said. He laughed, then stopped. _Oh, she’s serious?_ “Simon… I, along with the entire student body watched you destroy a girl that we knew you were once like this with.” She crossed her fingers. “We watched you lie on her, make her out to be worse than she was, and bring her so low that she’s in an institution!”

“You hated Grace, and now you’ve taken her place as the boss bitch.”

“Grace and I did not get along. We argued. We dissed each other. We competed. We hurt each other. We were mean and nasty to each other, and even I can see that what you did to her was fucked up.”

“You didn’t try to stop me.”

“That’s not my business. But what IS my business is the company I keep. It would never be somebody who would turn on even his day 1. Nobody even would have cared about you if it wasn’t for Grace and I still to this day think that you’re the one who shared that video of you two. Your lost and found again laptop story was always corny to me.”

“You seemed to get a kick out of it at the time.”

“Yeah, of humiliation! She got a kick out of it whenever my father was arrested for white collar crime! Fucking with each other was our dynamic! But you were supposed to be the girl’s friend, and you didn’t just fuck with her, you fucked her up. Everybody thinks it’s so funny? They’re only amused because they’re scared that you might fuck them up too. If you did it to her, there’s no telling what you’d do. You’ve got people thinking that the old rumors are true..” He furrowed his eyebrows and glared at her. The old rumors. That he killed his sister. They were true, but it was an accident. “In short, I don’t care about any of your reasons. You asked me to prom. I decline. End of discussion.”

“So… you don’t like me anymore because I stood up to Grace, something you did all of the time. We’re on the same side now!”

She stared at him and for a moment, he saw fear. That wasn’t something that Shana showed very much. She cleared her throat and wondered, “When… When did it ever cross your mind that I would EVER _like_ you, Simon? You have been a jerk the entire time that I’ve known you. When Grace and I were rivals, you were disgusting to me. You’ve called me out of my name, tried to tear me down about my looks and my family. Where in the world would you ever get an idea that I could possibly like you, even as just a person that I know of?”

“Because of our banter…”

“Arguing.”

“All of the flirting…”

“Clearly happened in your mind, but did not happen in mine.”

“The way that you always blush whenever we talk! I know what it looks like when somebody your skin tone blushes. I knew Grace like the back of my hand.”

“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing. I _don’t_ like you. I _have never_ liked you, and I have never BLUSHED when we talk. What you should know, as the young genius that everybody tries to make you out to be, because this is science related, biology, if you will… Is that what you’re describing as blushing, is actually heat rushing to one’s face. My heartbeat accelerates, I may even sweat a little as I get hot and my blood rushes. That’s not because I have a crush on you. It’s because you are one of the most infuriating people to have a conversation with. Because in addition to being a rude jackass, you are a delusional egotist. Every conversation I have with you makes me want to punch you in the face. And I know that if I do, they’ll toss my ass out of here and that will mess up me following my mother’s footsteps as a Spelman College Delta Sigma Theta! You, Simon Laurent have never been worth anything to me, certainly not my future. I’m sorry for Grace that she didn’t know that, but my parents raised me with the utmost love and confidence. I don’t need anybody like you to upgrade me, and I love myself too much to even entertain you as a friend. And my father, who you love to try to weaponize against me, after serving his time is still worth at least five times as much as yours…”

Simon threw over things from her desk and she jumped. His eyes went wide. He surprised himself with that outburst. Shana was moved for a moment, when she thought he was about to attack her, but when he didn’t, she got up. “Please pick up this mess, Simon. I will not mind reporting you for it.” She left the newsroom for a breather. Simon rushed to pick everything up before anybody else came in and wondered what happened, but a lot of Shana’s words cut him for a moment. _She’s lying. Girls lie,_ he reminded himself as he picked things up from the floor. But, he wasn’t going to beg her to go out with him. She declined. Okay, whatever. He’d have been doing her a favor.

Sometimes, he thought about her words, though. Blushing because she was infuriated by him… That made sense after a while, especially when he conflated her with the void, who he knew never loved him. He and Shana were prom king and queen, but she declined dancing with him and said on the microphone, “We all know this is Grace Monroe’s sloppy seconds.” There was an uproar of laughter in his mind. 

Actually, only a few people laughed. Some looked shocked and horrified that Shana would make fun of who they believed to be an abuse survivor. Shana shrugged her shoulders like Kanye and doubled down, “You all know good and well that Grace never harmed a split ended hair on this boy’s head! She was as obsessed with him as he was with her. You’re all wild to go along with that narrative. You would never believe all that mess about a white girl..” The dean snatched the microphone from her and gave her some warning that the other students couldn’t hear. Simon was livid. He waited for her outside.

“Shana,” he said. Shana yelped in fear whenever she saw him at her car, then reached into her clutch for a weapon. She didn’t have much, but she did have a nail file. Whenever he came near her, she stuck him in the neck with it and he groaned. She set off her car alarm trying to get inside of the car before deactivating it and Simon just smiled at her as she did. Shana was driving and crying and that was the last time that Simon saw her. 

He was questioned about assaulting her in the parking lot, but informed them that he only wanted to talk to her about what she had said in front of everyone and that she actually assaulted him. Now… once, people might believe, and people might even have believed that Shana was entirely capable of it. But, most of the kids and staff knew that Shana was a mean girl, but never violent. The only physical exchanges she had were the ones with Grace Monroe and now Simon Laurent. She finished out the end of school how Grace had finished her junior year. Simon finished it out with people beginning to doubt some of his stories about Grace. But, that didn’t matter! 

He hated that school, those rich kids, the system that worked for them but made him work for it. He was on his way to becoming better than all of that. He still wanted to make time for his art - writing, photography, creating figures and scenes… but he had gotten really into the robotics program whenever he was in engineering and decided that was what he was going to focus his education on. MIT was his first choice and he had been accepted by the end of junior year. He got his small living space as close as he could, since he prepared on spending the bulk of his time enrolled. He knew that he was destined for greatness. 

But, sometimes, his social media would think he needed to see something, like today, when he opened a video of Grace, playing a piano at wherever the undisclosed facility she had been at was, singing something captioned as “Stingray,” and looking… beautiful. He watched it more times than he would ever admit. 

He opened his own treasure chest and pulled out images of her, them… things that he had made and just didn’t have the strength to destroy when he purged the void. He picked up a photo from the pumpkin patch, when they were 14. She had her tongue stuck out at him and he was blushing. It was one of his favorite photos of them. 

_“You should take every photo of me, from now on!” She said, looking at her ones on her page that had gotten her the deal. “You always seem to make me look my absolute best in every photo you take of me. Like, you have a real eye for it.”_

_“I have an eye for you,” he corrected. “Two…” He blushed a lot. He hadn’t meant to say THAT._

_“You’ve got eyes for me, Simon?” she teased, making him blush more and his heart rate speed up. And in the midst of him trying to collect himself, she grabbed on to him, pulled him into a hug and took another of her many selfies. She groaned, “I just can’t make any photos look as good as you can… but you’re adorable in this,” she said and showed it to him. “I’m putting this on my Christmas cards this year.”_

She didn’t lie about that. He tossed it back into the box and picked up the torn out foreword that she had written for his fantasy novel. He went through the entire box before locking it back up and throwing it into the trunk of his car. One day, he was going to find the strength to throw it in a river or burn it, or something. It’s just that… she was his entire world… for half of his life…

“And you tossed her in the trash like nothing,” he heard Shana’s voice say… or was it Grace’s voice? He was starting to forget it. Like… of course he knew what it sounded like, but his head couldn’t place it in the chorus of girls’ voices that haunted him: his sister, his mother, the void, Shana… Shana was interchangeable with the void. His brain kept trying to tie them together and perhaps that was why her words affected him. Or maybe it was because they sounded so true, when he knew that they couldn’t be. The Void betrayed him. He counterattacked. “Getting too close to you really stung me.” He heard her singing. Simon bit his lip, picked up his phone and took a deep breath before liking the Stingray post.


	18. Am I the Adult?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: Mentions of child endangerment

Hazel was very excited for Grace’s upcoming birthday. She spent every day that she went outside trying to find the perfect leaf, and she DID! A very red one that would go great with her strawberry dress that would match the theme of the party she was throwing. The caretakers were going to bring Hazel to Grace’s quarters for a scheduled “play date,” and Hazel would take that time to decorate and set up gifts. Staff had gone to the store to get some things for Hazel and basically… They just grabbed all this strawberry stuff from the bargain store party supplies, so Hazel was gonna work with it. 

Grace’s caregiver had even gotten permission to take photos and post them! Which was HUGE for Hazel, as she was never able to be featured online for safety measures, but she guessed that they worked some details out in order for her to be able to be featured on Grace’s page! There would be a photo of them out there, somewhere! It may seem small, but to her, that meant so much. All of this did. 

On the morning that Hazel was setting up things in Grace’s quarters, one of the other staff members came to find her current chaperone. They were talking quietly, in that voice that made Hazel suspicious, so she listened a little harder than she might have if they had just not been sneaky. 

“I promise to take care of it personally, but she’ll be heartbroken if we do it right now.” 

That was all that Hazel heard before she had to pretend to still be doing stuff, like she hadn’t been listening in. “What just happened?” She asked.

“Oh, they were telling me what we need to do after the party. Do you need any help setting things up?”

“Hmmmm…” Hazel studied her, then shrugged her shoulders and said, “I think it’s all set.”

Grace had woken early that day, getting her morning therapy done a little bit earlier than usual. She hadn’t had the time to do any meditation or anything… which was usually her just sitting there trying to think of stuff that she was happy about. The list was short, so it tended to be a quiet time for her. Today, it was even shorter, because her thoughts were irrationally loud. This was the second birthday since her 10th that she was without him. Today was about her, not him. Hazel had asked her to wear something with strawberries on it. Whatever that kid had planned, Grace wanted to be excited about it.

“And that stinks, you know? I’ve got this really good friend in my life and I’m constantly thinking about the one that got away. The one that pushed me away. The one that hurt me. I’m still wearing his stupid charm bracelet.”

“You don’t have to wear that charm bracelet, Grace,” her psychiatrist said.

“I know this, but also… I lost my hope chest. Whenever I gave it to the police, there was even my other gifts from Simon in it. Ones that weren’t related to crimes, but I couldn’t take them out. They gave me the chest back empty and the rest of it was all evidence. This is the only gift that I still have from him, and it is sort of all encompassing too. This pumpkin, because of our visits to the pumpkin patch. This train, because that’s what took us to most of our adventures. This skateboard, the tube of lipstick, the little soldier… They ALL have a part in our childhood and our friendship. The charm bracelet tells the story of who we were before it went wrong.”

“When would you say it went wrong?”

This was a trick question, or one to make her think more carefully about her words. From 10-12 she was sneaking away to frolic with him, and while that may have been a little mischievous, it wasn’t anarchy or anything. But, whenever they were 12, she started unleashing all of the rage that she had to keep pinned up at home. Simon had rage of his own to release and seeing her so boldly accept hers helped him to do the same for his own. The next few years were borderline sociopathy… So, like… maybe it had always been wrong, but it didn’t always _feel_ wrong. That came later.

“I’d say that it went wrong whenever it started to feel wrong for me and not for him. I think whenever I began to deny certain things in myself, he probably felt like I was rejecting them in him, and I was, a little bit. I felt like certain things should have stopped. But, that wasn’t what did it for him. For him, whenever I wanted to find my own avenues… it was betrayal.”

“Have you felt that it was betrayal?”

“No. I wouldn’t have left him or hurt him.”

“I want to focus on you more, instead of him. What do you think of when you think of betrayal?”

“Turning against someone, doing things to them that are inexcusable.”

“So, to be disloyal to someone.”

“Yes. That’s a good way to put it.”

“What would you say that you were loyal to, prior to where it went wrong?”

Grace thought for a moment. “I was loyal to Simon. When it went wrong, I was still loyal to Simon. Nothing that I did was _dis_ loyal.” She scoffed and shook her head, “Nothing that I did was disloyal, and I’ve been trying for over a year to figure out what I did, instead of being loyal enough to myself to realize that I didn’t do anything to deserve any of that. Is that what you were trying to get me to see?”

“I’ve been helping you to come to healthy conclusions, whatever you feel and know is best for you. I haven’t been trying to get you to see this so much as get you to know what you make of the information. You’ve passed over this many times. Sometimes semantics is helpful. The word “betrayal” is commonly used in gritty young adult series and memes on the Internet. “Disloyal” isn’t so much. It’s less convoluted. You were struggling to realize that you didn’t betray anyone, because you’ve heard the word a lot and it’s taken on many forms. The word disloyal has the same meaning, but for you, it felt like a different, more serious accusation.”

“Because I _know_ I was loyal, for a fact… So I know that I wasn’t disloyal. Ma’am… You couldn’t grab your thesaurus a year ago?” Grace joked. She appreciated a new POV, for once. It felt like she had maybe made some sort of breakthrough.

.

When she got back to her quarters, Hazel and her caregiver were there and there were cheap decorations and Hazel had a sign with “Happy Birthay Grace!” written on it and a drawing of the two of them in strawberry dresses. Though, Grace had a strawberry romper in real life.

“Oh, Hazel! You are so sweet!” She cheered and picked her friend up to hug her and pelt her with kisses as she laughed. 

They played a few games, had a couple of cupcakes from the cafeteria, made dancing videos, and then talked while the caregivers ‘monitored.’ Both were on their phones and not really paying attention to the conversation too deeply. 

Eventually, Hazel said, “Whenever I was out there, I used to tell people that Tuba was my mom.”

Grace furrowed her eyebrows, “You used to say that your mom was a tuba?”

Hazel laughed, “No, Silly! Not A tuba! THE Tuba! The Mighty Tuba and her Musical Bunch!”

Grace gasped, “OOOOOOOH!!! The big gorilla with the,” she gestured towards her shoulders, “With the tubas. Why her?”

“Because I didn’t really get TV. I thought she was there with me. Every time she sang Don’t Be a Worry Baby, I just felt like she was singin’ to me. I also didn’t know that she wasn’t real! So whenever I told kids that she was my mom, they’d say stuff like, “Your mom wears the gorilla suit?” I’d just lie and say yes. Even if I switched homes and somebody said that I can call them mom… I knew that they probably wouldn’t be there for me later on, and Tuba always would. She was only a TV away.”

Grace smiled, sadly. “That’s kinda cool… You got to pick yourself a mom that you approved of!”

“You’re doing it again, Grace.”

“No, I mean it. I wish I could've picked my mom. Heck, maybe Tuba can be my mom too. That show is BIG, so I know she’s got bank.” 

Hazel laughed and Grace brushed her hair from her face to look at her. Hazel leaned into her touch and confessed, “Whenever I leave, I’m gonna tell people that you’re my mom.” Grace froze and forced a smile, despite feeling very uncomfortable at the moment. “Our little introduction… remember?”

“Right! Right…” Grace laughed and took her hand back. “I was just thinking, if you get out there and say my name… if people remember me, they might not have nice things to say. I don’t want you to have to look at me that way.”

“Grace… We’re both in here. I know how people outside are. They judge us very meanly. I won’t pay attention to them.” Grace gave her a big hug. Their gathering was over a short while later. She was happy about the gifts that Hazel made her and since she did have her old hope chest, she stuck them in there, with the leaf in the baggy, from the day that they became friends. “You can’t replace Simon with Hazel. You’ve gotta have a healthy sense of self and a healthy sense of friendship.” She said. She shut the chest, “This is healthy. I mean, we’re 12 years apart in age, but I think that as far as 18 year olds with child friends goes, we’re doing great. No, 18 year olds aren’t usually friends with 6 year olds, BUT, they also aren’t usually in an institution for a year.”

Whenever I leave, I’m gonna tell people that you’re my mom. “You really should have nipped that in the bud. You’re not her mom, and never could be. It was wrong of you not to remind her of that and to advise her to look at you as just another patient here that happens to care about her. You’d make a terrible mom, and you’re returning to the cycle of being a terrible friend. NO! I was a good friend! I was loyal.” She took a deep breath and sat down to meditate. 

.

She awoke with a start and put her hand over her chest. For some reason, she’d thought that she heard some loud crash or something. But, now the room seemed totally silent and it was too dark to see if anything was out of place. She took a deep breath and laid back down. “Grace!” A loud whisper called. She screamed, but a small hand cupped her mouth. “It’s me.” _Hazel._

“Hazel?” Grace said, removing the girl’s hand from her mouth. “How did you get in here?”

“The vents,” Hazel said. “We’ve gotta go!”

“Yeah, back to your room, before you get in serious trouble, young lady.”

“They’re sending me away,” Hazel said. Grace’s heart stopped. Hazel continued, “After the party, they started packing up my things and making inventory. They’re sending me to a foster home!”

Grace wanted to cry, but she knew this was good news for the child, even if she didn’t seem to. “Hazel, that’s great! You get to get out of here.”

“I don’t want to get out of here! Here is where _you_ are,” Hazel sobbed. 

Grace sputtered air and collected Hazel to herself. “Hey… I know that this is rough. It’s scary out there. But your workers care about what’s best for you. If you’re getting out, that means that you’ve gotten better. They don’t wanna keep you here if they don’t have to.”

“It doesn’t mean that I’ve gotten better. It just mean that I’ve had some good days! Whenever I start having bad days, then what? They’ll put me back in a place like this, and what if it isn’t here? What if it’s not with you? I have bad days because I get scared and the turtle is the only thing that keeps me safe. I haven’t had bad days because I’m with you and I know that you keep me safe!” Grace rubbed her arm and Hazel climbed on her and held her tightly, sobbing. “We’re supposed to protect each other, and they’re sending me away.”

“It’s okay. Just hold on to me. It’s okay.” She let Hazel sleep there, but as soon as the sun peeked through the blinds in the morning, she scooped her up to take her to the staff. 

Hazel hoped that maybe this little scheme would land her a longer stay, but all they did was revise the way that they rooms were, to try to ensure that she couldn’t get to the vent to crawl through it. She was filthy and needed to be made presentable before it was time for her social worker to collect her.

“Did she have something with her?” the staff asked.

“No. Not that I saw. I could check the room, I guess. It was pretty dark whenever she showed up. What am I looking for?” Grace asked. 

“We’ll send someone to search her room and then stop by yours.” 

They didn’t want to tell her. She went back to the room searching, not knowing what for. Her caretaker was waiting outside and would check in with her every few minutes. She was in her room that day anyway. After searching everywhere, she sat on top of her chest and surveyed the room. Maybe she left whatever it was in the vent? She moved to try to push the chest and see if it could help her to reach, but she noticed that the flaps weren’t secured. She opened it and there it was… a file. _Hazel Doe._

Grace’s hands shook as she picked it up. She didn’t know if Hazel put it there because she wanted to take it with them wherever she wanted to run away together to, or if she just needed Grace to see her. Whatever the case, Grace picked it up and began to read it. 

The medical reports from being left in the bushes at almost 2 (and unable to walk by that time???) She was malnutritioned, had multiple illnesses picked up from the elements, was covered in insect bites, some very infected, had drugs in her system, organ issues… _GOD! This kid had it tough._ They had her in a children’s hospice… They didn’t even expect her to survive. But, she did. “Of course she did. She’s a trooper.” 

However, she suffered from some behavioral problems from age 3 on, thought to possibly be related to exposure/ingestion of drugs from a parent via neglect or breastfeeding, though she began recovering at the time... Bounced around to multiple homes between ages 3-5 (the turtle “transformation” began at age 4, too early to consider a dissociative disorder), and from children’s mental health centers to foster care from 5-6… 

Hazel… was probably correct in thinking that she might be sent elsewhere again. This poor kid had been bounced around like a pinball. That’s not even covering some of the incidents surrounding her turtle persona, like crawling out into the street and nearly being hit by a car at one of her homes, prompting them to send her to get help… eating poisonous leaves and having to be rushed to the ER… She had emotional AND physical trauma. More than Grace could imagine, and all Grace wanted to do was to help her. She hoped that the help would be in finding a proper family. All she knew for sure was that the mature thing to do was not get in this girl’s way of help just because she was lonely. She had been down that road before.

Her caretaker peeked in and Grace said, “Oh! I think I found what they were looking for. Hazel’s file.” 

She came to retrieve it, “That girl’s definitely crawled those vents before. Got into the office. Hers was on the desk, because they were going to put it in the outpatient ones as soon as she leaves...Did you read this, Grace?”

“Who do you think I am?” Grace asked, avoiding answering honestly. The tears in her eyes said it all. “Do you think they’ll let me say goodbye to her, when she leaves?”

“Sure. I’ll set that up while I go bring this back to them.”

“Can you also get her a gift from me?”

“I can take you to pick something out. Get ready, and we’ll go when I get back.”

Grace didn’t go out much, but sometimes, her caretaker took her on trips to the store, a food place, or just to the mall to grab something really quickly. As long as they had the proper permissions, it was fine. She could take her out more, but Grace wanted to be inside the amount of time that she was. 

She couldn’t seem to decide on a gift though. None of this stuff could say, “Sorry that life has treated you so poorly that I seemed like a good mother figure. Hopefully, it’ll stop doing that shit to you.” She heard Don’t Be a Worry Baby playing and followed the sound. There was a huge Tuba display with toys, games, and other fanfare. She found one of those oversized birthday cards and looked in it. It was too birthday-ish, so she put it down. Hazel didn’t need any of the keychains or... lighters? Why would there be Tuba lighters? Grace picked up a stuffed Tuba, with speakers on the inside of her tubas. When she pressed the try me button, it began to play the song from the tubas. Grace put it in her cart and went to look at the other cards that weren’t for birthdays. She found one with a turtle on it that read, “You’ve come out of your shell!” And on the inside, the turtle is still in its shell but it reads, “Just kidding, but you’re turtley cool, no matter what!” She cried as she put it in the cart too. Her caretaker placed an arm around her and led her to the checkouts.

Hazel looked like a different kid whenever Grace arrived to see her off. She wasn’t smiling. She just seemed defeated. “Hey… I came to give you something to remember me by…” Hazel’s eyes looked up at Grace, but she wasn’t prepared to change her face yet. Grace presented her with the card and the Tuba stuffie, which she liked a lot and hugged her for them. She still seemed… sad. “Also…” Grace took off her charm bracelet and placed it on Hazel’s arm It was too big. 

“Grace, this is the only good thing that you have left of your friend.”

Grace shook her head, “We laid that to rest in the bush, remember?” Hazel started crying and Grace knelt to her level. “Hazel. You are going to do so well. You’re smart, brave, special, a survivor. You are so much better than so many of us already, and in the right space, you’ll become even greater.” Grace was crying too, but she meant it all. 

Hazel jingled the charms on the bracelet and said, “I have this. You keep her.” She gave Tuba to Grace. I know that you’ll take care of her.” 

That defeated the purpose of Grace buying it, but she said, “I’ll guard her with my life.” 

As Hazel got into the car with the social worker, the woman said, “I’ll speak with the family about allowing you to keep in touch. They might be open to it…” Grace nodded. 

Hazel rolled the window down and said, “Good luck Grace,” before the car pulled away and Grace finally let herself cry as hard and loud as she wanted to. She also determined that she needed to get out of here as soon as possible… She was ready, right? Or very close to it…

.

The semester was nearly over, which meant very little to him, with the exception of midterms, because his work schedule was a constant, anyway. He had numerous projects, several business ventures. The man rarely slept and always woke up in a rush to move along with whatever was happening for him. 

Currently, he was looking at the plans for a weapon that he had been trying to design for an electrical engineering project. Professor Hughes had commented that his choice of a weapon, of all things, for the project was, “bold and unexpected.” He knew that to mean that she did not support his decision and would be extra hard on him for making said decision. Therefore, the product had to be perfect.

Simon had become interested in weapons designs. He didn’t necessarily switch interests so much as he liked to explore various mediums within the fields of study that he was involved. For some reason, he liked the thought of pioneering a new and amazing weapon. He started some theoretical designs a few years ago as equipment used in his fantasy novel, but now he was officially working on one.

His other projects included robotic action figures, software for a virtual reality social network, and his most ambitious stunt - carrying on Professor Hughes’ noble work of nanotechnological eugenics… She left behind the attempts within the past couple of years, but Simon found it fascinating a thought - to be able to use science in such a way that perhaps mankind could be better physical specimens. The woman had lost her fiance in an accident and became obsessed with artificial evolution and the concept of building stronger bodies - more durable humans, without robbing them of their humanity. She made several various attempts in several fields of engineering until eventually realizing that even if she did find an ethical way to proceed with any of her work, it would never bring her lover back.

Simon was of the mindset that maybe it could, given the right possibilities. If it could do that, it could also potentially grant humans immortality. But, he never actually said that much out loud. He simply just became fluent in her research and devoted to progressing it. Many scientists had gone off into trying to establish wider boundaries of the human body and human experience. Professor Hughes wasn’t the first or even the brightest or best... But, she had research and work on the matter that was more advanced than anything he’d ever been privy to, and he was confident that he was better and brighter than her.

He had other things for other classes, too, but those listed were the main ones that he knew would take a while and also could change the world if he was successful.If he started right out of the gate on his biggest ideas, he’d have more time to work through them during his educational journey.

He still kept various tabs open, but now that was done on three different laptops that he carried with him. NO distractions while working, so he generally had his phone both muted and put away. After several hours in whichever lab he was working out of on any given night, he would pack everything up, grab his skateboard and head home while listening to a podcast or something. 

Checking his messages on the way home, he saw one that was from somebody with a pic of red lips as their profile (he assumed they were likely fringe Apex) and the caption, “Is this YOUR Grace?” 

He looked at a report of a woman with a bountiful afro, sunglasses and bags getting into a car. He read the caption, “Will Teen Queen Grace Monroe be Home for Christmas?” He stopped to read about how the reports claimed to have not only seen her getting into this vehicle outside of a mental health facility, but to have seen her on the campus of the Monroe estate, and a few times around Monroe Square’s gated community. Reports were unsure if the prosperous princess is home to stay or simply allotted a visit for the holidays. 

Simon felt something nagging at him whenever he saw her face in the photo. Whenever she was inside, and all of random moments he might come around an image of her was either old or from the institution, she still felt like a concept that no longer touched his life. Like old photos of his sister. He could look at them and remember, but he could also put them aside and forget her. If she was out now, who knew what she would try? _She can’t harm you. She can’t affect your work. You solved that issue…_

_Or, you created a bigger problem. Had you just let her go, you could call her and see how she was doing. Had you just let her go, you’d have been ok by now, instead of wondering if she’s going to try to strike back. You know her better than anybody. She’s the vengeful type, just like you. Strike first!_

“No!” He grumbled and a passerby stared at him momentarily before awkwardly moving away. “She’s not going to come anywhere near me. I showed her what I’m capable of. She’s done. Over with. She’s not going to do anything but try to get on with her life… without me.” He felt a pang in his heart. If she was out, that meant that whatever damage he caused had most likely been repaired. Maybe she was better than ever now, stronger than ever. Without him. He played one of his music playlists made specifically for The Void, and got onto his skateboard. _Sleeping pills tonight, it is._


	19. What They Deserve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People who have already read this before - I simply put the "deleted scene" with Shana into the chapter, about where it would have occurred instead of coming back later with a forgotten scene like I did with the Tumblr version.

People loved to hear about the trials and tribulations of others. That was the core of half of the entertainment sites. Grace didn’t like to put her hurt on display, but she did want to reintroduce herself, or rather, debut the new Grace to the world and she realized that would entail people bringing up her past and/or intruding on her private life. 

For instance, people would ask her how her relationship with her parents is…

_Grace’s first day out, her mother was in the car whenever she got in. They were driven, in silence back to the estate, where guards were posted for the occasion, in case someone noticed or tried to get in, as they sometimes did. Her room was still the same, but there was someone there to help her pack up her essentials and her pleasures. She was going to be moved to a secure location that people didn’t know about, because her parents didn’t want the family house to be any more of a sideshow that it had been following her institutionalization._

_Her mother still had not said anything to her and it took hours for her to go through her personals and decide what she couldn’t live without and see the things that she could live without go into a donations box or a trash bin. “Where are all of my pictures of me and Simon?” she asked, when she opened the designated box for those._

_“Surely, you’re joking,” was the first thing her mother said. She tossed the box into the donations. Her father didn’t even show up during this time frame. By the time she was moved into her new home, she had only gotten one word from her mother and none from her father. So, whenever someone asked about them, she would say, “How is everybody’s relationship with their parents? It’s personal. It’s a relationship between one and one or two more people, and their dynamic and their emotions are fluid. The three of us have very different wavelengths and concerns, so my relationship with them is something between me and them and then, my relationship with you all is what’s between me and you.” She’d laugh a little, but after a few times, people got the message._

People would ask her about her mental health - if she was better, what happened in the first place, does she think it could happen again, etc.

_Hazel wound up in another facility after a few months with her new foster family (mere weeks before Grace was released). The charm bracelet was sent back to her and for several days, she didn’t know what that meant for Hazel. If she was okay, if she was hurt or worse. They had only told her that they thought that she should have it back, then failed to communicate anything else about Hazel, for legal purposes. Grace was in shambles, until FINALLY she was told that Hazel was fine, but she had a relapse and was “in turtle form” for several days, making them have to take her to a doctor and seeing her file, they committed her for 72 hours. She was fine and heading back home._

_When Grace got out and looked her up, she was no longer at the same home. She had been redirected elsewhere… They couldn’t give Grace that information at the time. She thought she would lose her mind trying to contact someone who would be willing to help her out with this information, but most of them informed her that such information was secure for the safety of the child, and she understood it and couldn’t argue with it or convince them that she was more concerned for the safety of this child than anyone. It remained at the forefront of her thoughts._

“I went somewhere to get help. I got help. A lot of people just get bounced around in life and never truly get the help that they need or deserve. I’ve been very fortunate, so I try to focus on that. Some days, I succeed. Some days, I do not succeed. I feel good today.”

They would ask her about new music, what beauty products she used now that she was no longer associated with her old brands, and if she would be dancing again. All things that she still wasn’t completely certain of yet, but lighthearted enough that she didn’t get too stressed out about that line of questioning.

The questions that brought her the most visible displeasure and clear distress were the ones about Simon. What about your relationship with Simon Laurent? Nobody has heard your side of the story. Have you seen or talked to Simon? Are things well between you? Has he forgiven you?…

“I don’t speak about Simon. The most that I can tell you is that I hope he has what he needs and gets everything that he deserves.” They might try to make jokes to prod about what she thinks he deserves, but she generally redirected the conversation. “He deserves what he deserves, and that’s what I hope he gets.” She would smile and nod, but her eyes would be sad. Eventually, people stopped asking her about him. She began posting dance videos, remixes, and songs again. This time, being confident in herself and away from her parents. It was no longer an escape from her life, because her life was lonely, but she was happy with it. There was freedom in her world that she hadn’t imagined in the past. She had more followers than ever before. Some people still called her Apex, but she never put that into any of her bios or captions, herself. 

She had a routine that worked for her wellbeing, from the time that she spent in the center, and she still had very regular sessions with her therapist, not to mention a medication regimen that assisted in her wellness. 

Anyone who wanted to contact her did so through someone else who would be the go-between, just in case. She moved out of the house that her parents placed her in and found something more suitable for her style, and closer to Julliard, because she still wanted to try to go, if she could make it in. In the meantime, she enjoyed the music scene in New York, branched out to finding new artists that she hadn’t heard of, made a few new friends in the industry, got hired for music videos and song demos. Some days, she expected to wake up and discover that her life had all been a dream. She would wonder if she actually did spend over a year in a mental facility, if she had gotten into some trouble with Simon, if she ever actually had met Simon… He seemed so far away, so long ago and so unfamiliar sometimes. But, whenever he did come back to her, he came flooding back.

Like if somebody casually asked, “You got kids?” and she remembered that while the answer was no, she had gotten pregnant at 16 and was so stressed out, that she hadn’t noticed for several weeks that her body was behaving differently, and that she spent several more trying to figure out what she would say, what she would do, how she would handle this. “No, no kids. But, I did have to make a decision to terminate a pregnancy when I was younger.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. There’s a stigma about it, but it was something that was best for me and I don’t harbor anger or disgust with myself about it.” Then, she could remember Simon’s eyes, his hands, other parts of him, the way that he held her, the things he had said to her. She would have to try not to cry and if she did, be totally honest, “Sorry. I haven’t really thought about the guy in a while, and I’m just in my feelings, Don’t mind me.” She didn’t like to lie, if she could help it. She tried to be as honest as she could these days, without saying too much. But, she had a pretty good crew in NY. They always were understanding and if someone said something, they’d gather them up pretty quickly. Her therapist told her that friends do things like that. It made her feel bad. She thought that friends shared everything, and since she was still very closed off to these people, she didn’t really consider them to be friends of hers, just associates that she really liked.

“That can be considered friendship, too. You don’t have to tell every friend that you have your life story and every person who you share mutual connection and kindness with isn’t going to be your lifetime bestie. Just enjoy the company of people who make you feel good and let the people who you make feel good enjoy your company.” That’s what she did. 

She got into Julliard when she was 20 and she was pretty known in the music scene by the time she was 21. Grateful that she had been able to finish high school in the institution and happy that she hadn’t gotten so comfortable that she was afraid to get better and leave there. Because, she was living a life that she had always wanted, and whether or not she deserved to, she told herself that she did and she was sure to enjoy it. 

.

“Hey, Grace! There’s somebody that wanted to speak to you!” one of the bartenders said when she was finished with her set at a friend’s bar. She was successful, but she didn’t have the Monroe money that she had been brought up in, and her trust fund was still hefty, but she still had bills that she was responsible for, so she worked. She didn’t mind working, because she was able to do something that she loved. A lot of people knew her. A lot of famous people liked her. A lot of people tried to talk to her. She didn’t expect to see Shana whenever she turned her eyes towards where the bartender gestured. 

The woman had a large puff in the back of her head and was wearing a beret on the smoothed down part. She smiled and headed Grace’s way and Grace didn’t know whether she should prepare herself to fight or just run so she wouldn’t have to. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me, Bitch?” Shana asked and laughed. Grace relaxed a little, but was still tense. “Come sit down with me. I’ll buy you a drink.” Grace followed her, the frohawk on her own head peeking over the heads of others as they worked through the crowd and sat at a table. “What will you have?”

“They know me in here. Just a Gracefront.”

“A Gracefront?” Shana repeated and laughed. “What’s in it?”

“It's a frozen virgin melon spritzer. I don’t drink alcohol, so..” 

Shana told the waitress, “Two Gracefronts - can you MAKE one of those alcoholic?” She nodded, ‘Thank God!” Once the waitress was gone, Shana looked at Grace, “You look great. You look like nothing ever happened to you.”

“Shana… I’m sorry for chinchecking you that day. I thought you deserved it, and maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But, I regret a lot about those days. I’m not the same person anymore.”

Shana’s eyes flashed something like anger for the first time tonight, as she thought back to the time Grace straight up punched her. But, she waved a hand, “We were both some bitches, but we were entitled to it. Being young is hard, and we were surrounded by others, supposed to be and act a certain way. We had a lot of shit going on and we took some things out on each other, and some things that we took out on each other was well deserved. If i had realized then what I realize now, I wouldn’t have bothered you about that like I did. I’m presuming also that you wouldn’t have bugged me about daddy’s criminal endeavors.”

“I was so foul for that,” Grace admitted. They both laughed. “What brings you to New York? Someone told me that you were in Atlanta.”

“Who told you that?” Shana wondered. 

“I think it was in the alumni group. I didn’t stay long. I only joined it to announce that I was out, so that people wouldn’t have to keep asking my parents.”

“It’s funny that somebody had the time to talk about me there, because I CERTAINLY never joined that alumni group. I hated the kids we went to school with. ESPECIALLY Simon’s narcissistic ass.” Shana watched Grace’s entire demeanor change. It was like she had just seen a ghost. “Sorry. I heard you don’t talk about him, but I sure do. Did anybody tell you about what happened at the end of senior year?”

“No. I don’t know anything but that you two were prom king and queen…”

“We weren’t together, if that’s what you thought. I couldn’t stand him. He actually thought I had a crush on him!”

Grace laughed, “Yeah, he told me that a few times. I never saw it myself, but Simon wasn’t great at taking hints. You sort of had to lead him to water.” The waitress brought their first round of drinks to them.

“I led him alright. I told him exactly what I thought about him, and you…” Shana replayed the conversations, including the announcement at the prom, which made Grace instantly terrified for her and she grew more anxious as Shana retold the parking lot incident. “And after that, I just didn’t feel safe. I finished school via distance learning and I high tailed it to ATL as soon as I got my diploma. It’s been lit. You should come through sometime. Atlanta has a very vibrant music scene for Black people.”

“I’m at Julliard right now, so I definitely won’t be moving any time soon, but I did consider spending some time in Atlanta at some point, so maybe. But, you never told me what you’re doing out here.”

“My girlfriend is from New York, so whenever I saw that you were gonna be performing here during a visit, I figured that I’d come say hi.”

“Really?”

“I was wondering for a while if you really didn’t want to talk about Simon, or if you just wanted to be able to tell your side to someone who wasn’t trying to flog you for all the world to see.”

“Oh.”

Shana laughed, “I’m a journalist, Grace. But, I was also around whenever everything happened and I never thought that it happened the way that it was being said. I didn’t think it was fair, even for you.” 

“Well, it’s over and done with now. What difference would it make?” Grace asked.

“You think that wherever Simon Laurent is, he’s just letting people be? You think he’s not having angry outbursts on people in Massachusetts? You think he hasn’t set some rival scientist up for failure or terrified some ex girlfriend into obscurity?”

“I think he's a best selling author, ergo a public figure and that if he did do stuff like that, it would come to light, so, it’s not my business or my problem. I didn’t make people believe his stories or want to hear more about them. It’s not my responsibility to discredit him.” Grace gestured for another drink and began to nervously fold a napkin into an origami bird.

Shana sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I just always wonder how many people bad men can reach. I love my dad, don’t get me wrong, but when I started to research all of the people who were hurt by his crime, it made me lose sleep. When women do wrong, we get what’s coming to us, via the media and in the court system. SOMETIMES, we get it worse, for less infractions. Simon did some very illegal things, and pinned most of it on you and the biggest thing he did only hurt you, when it was legit a very serious crime.” Grace was transported to the way she felt whenever Shana showed her that video. “And I helped. I made it worse. I… it was fucked up.” Shana sighed and sat up. “I was hoping that if you wanted someone to report your side, let your truth show, that you might let me be the person to do it. I owe you that much.”

Grace laughed and shook her head, “That would be a career building story. Everybody wants to know what I have to say about Simon, so it’s not like I wouldn’t be doing you a huge favor in giving you that exclusive.”

“You would be! But, it could help both of us.”

“But, more you though. You know… people that I run into, in everyday life - they don’t even ask me about Simon. They tell me that they loved my twerking pancakes remix video, or that they saw me perform last fall and it blew their mind. I never have to think about Simon unless something else triggers it. This wouldn’t do me any favors, but thank you for the drinks. And, as I said in the beginning, I’m sorry.”

“What would I be able to do? Get you something? Find somebody? What would be a payoff enough for you to talk to me about this?”

“Can you find people?” Grace asked.

“I have a lot of resources for finding people.”

“I was in the center with a girl. She’s been in and out of centers and they won’t give me information, even though we were very close. If you can find her for me, I will think about an interview with you about Simon.”

“That’s not very promising…”

“If you can tell me where she is, I’ll give you an interview… about how I currently feel. Not about what happened before. How do I feel about Simon? That's what everybody wants to know about me. Nobody cares about the truth and I don’t want to stir that up. But, if you can tell me where Hazel Doe is, I will tell you anything I have thought about Simon Laurent since I’ve been a free woman.” 

Shana snatched the origami bird and scribbled on it, “Okay Hazel D-O-U-G-H?’

“D-O-E, as in Jane.”

“Okay. Where was the last place that you knew of that she was?” Grace opened her phone to give Shana the information. “This… This is a kid, Grace. Do you know how difficult it is to find kids?”

“Yes, I’ve been trying!”

Shana groaned, but she continued taking down the information, “History of abuse or kidnapping? Because that’ll really give us a hard time.”

“Possibly… Look… this kid means a lot to me. If you really feel like something is the least you can do, it would be this.”

Shana nodded and put the napkin in her bag. 

.

 _That bitch was trying to ruin him!_ Simon could hardly catch his breath as he paced outside of the hearing for his academic integrity. _She’s just mad that you’ve done BETTER than she has, with her work!_

 _It was one thing when she was taking her bitterness out on you, telling you that your weapon failed to meet the requirements of the assignment, even though it was theoretically FLAWLESS. The CIA spoke with you about your plans for this weapon! But her? She told you to stick to something that your “childlike little mind” could actually comprehend the endgame of._ “How about your little robot figures?” she’d taunted. 

Other students had laughed. _LAUGHED!_ His project was miles ahead of everyone in that class, and her tone was disrespectful and condescending! “I haven’t had a childlike thought in my mind since I was 10, you old bitch!” It just stumbled from his lips. She frowned at him and demanded an apology to her and to the rest of the class. He snatched his presentation supplies and stormed off. He’d be damned if he apologized for her antagonizing him! He heard a few more laughs and he knocked the items off of her podium on his way out. He knew that couldn’t work out well… at least in hindsight, he did. In the moment, all he knew was rage.

He even sent her an email apologizing to her and the class and offering to replace anything that he damaged in his outburst. She had only replied to him not to return to her class until further notice. But… he needed her class. It would throw off his entire educational trajectory not to be able to come to her class! Even for a few days!! He was almost ready to grovel. Almost. That would be too much like showing weakness. He apologized, what more could she want.

So, Simon filed a complaint on her, accusing her of being combative, rude, and making her classes toxic environments. Now, the Committee on Discipline was meeting to look over all of the details of her complaint. 

“I truly wanted to give young Mr. Laurent a moment to think about his actions in the classroom and to realize the err of his ways. His complaint against me during this time, being both unfounded and untrue, caused me to have to rethink my decision. I don’t think that Simon Laurent is capable of the behavioral status that we require of students here. I don’t think that he has the temperance for all of the criticisms his flights of fancy are sure to get over the course of his career. I gave him the option to try another avenue for the assignment, as his assignment, while a very significant project did. Not. meet. The. requirements. Of. the. Assignment. He needed to be able to give us a small demonstration. His project was a weapon. He could only grant me a simulation and that is not what I asked for. Telling him this incited him to rage in which he disrespected myself and his peers, disrupting the classroom with his antics. Like a child, throwing a tantrum.” 

Even then, his face was looking like all he wanted was to murder her right then and there. When the committee allowed him to speak, he changed his tune. He was calm and even voiced. “Professor Hughes made a lot of points about me and my particular struggles when it comes to being disregarded. I did respond angrily and I know that it was wrong of me to react the way that I did. That’s why I sent her an apology after I had the chance to cool down. But, she didn’t decide to turn me into the committee until after I filed a complaint on her for even bringing me to the point that I had such a meltdown in her classroom in the first place!” Amelia frowned and members of the committee shared various facial expressions.

Simon looked directly at her and said, “I’ve been a long time fan of your work and your accomplishments. I specifically fought to be in your classroom because of the way that I regard everything that you’ve done throughout your career and I just wanted the privilege to be able to learn from you. But, you’re very unkind. You make people feel bad. You don’t think about the things that you say to people and how those things might affect them. You didn’t even care about my psychological makeup until you could use it against me in these proceedings. You humiliate people in front of others and you don’t even break a sweat.”

“This is not my hearing, Mr. Laurent.”

“But, it matters to this hearing, because I never would have reacted that way if you weren’t being so abrasive.”

“That is a word that men like to use against me whenever I meet them with the very same energy that they put out. I’ve been called worse. By professors, colleagues, and for over 30 years my own psychological settings came into play whenever a discussion was to be had about me. This isn’t about your mental disposition. It’s about your behavior. Your angry and hostile behavior at any old sign of criticism!”

“Professor Hughes,” one of the committee members said. She went silent.

Simon proceeded, “I know that I’m not good at handling criticism, especially coming from a woman. My mother was… difficult to communicate with and the only other woman I was close to…” His eyes grew damp. “I’m sorry. My education means a lot to me and I’ll do anything to stay here.” He rushed out of the chambers, covering his face as he did. Amelia pulled herself up to go check on him. He was in the waiting section, in a seat in the corner with his back to the wall, still covering his crying face. She took a deep breath, grabbed a seat and sat next to him.

“There’s not a person in that room who isn’t familiar with the hardships you had to face in order to get here. We know about your family. We know about your abuse.” He wiped his face and glared at nothing in particular. “We also know how smart you are. You were able to get into this school based upon your intelligence. Nobody is doubting that you are capable of doing great work. I wasn’t even implying that I hated your work that day. But, it wasn’t the proper assignment, Simon. I needed you to give me one thing, you not only gave me another, but you refused to even consider that what you were trying to give me was impossible to meet my requirements. Then, you got angry because you had refused to listen to me in the first place. Now, I admit… I’m not the most courteous member of staff at this institute. I can be…”

“Bitchy.”

“Unapologetic.” She chuckled. “Let me tell you, I know how it is to be in a room full of people who underestimate you and make you feel like you shouldn’t be in the room. There wasn’t much respect for female engineers in my day and there’s not a proper amount even now if you ask me. Half of this staff is composed of pretentious, pompous, puffed up paragons, and it takes next to nothing for anybody outside of their ideals to be met with disdain. What you did, by reporting me was to make me a target. I disagree with your evaluation of me and I can’t tell if it came from a place of genuine thought or retaliation, but you can’t be trusted to continue your education here unless you are willing to listen to others, especially those of us who are trying to help to teach you!”

He wiped his eyes with his sleeves. “They’re gonna kick me out. It’ll look bad on me, and all of my research and work from the past two years might not even matter anymore…”

“That doesn’t have to happen, Simon. Listen… I think you’re brilliant. I am willing to vouch for you this time, under the circumstances that you see someone about getting professional help for your responses to adversity.”

“You… want me to see a shrink.?”

“I think you could benefit from getting mental healthcare and I don’t want you in any classroom of mine unless you do.”

He shivered. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She went back in to explain this to the committee and he went through the campus counselors, hating most of them whenever he met with them, switching every time he didn’t like something about one of them, making very little progress, but still fulfilling the deal he made with the committee, for a time. He and Professor Hughes bickered a lot, but he had kept his temper in check whenever she aggravated him, and he eventually settled on a counselor that he didn’t completely hate, too.

He’d always come in, not at all wanting to speak to them. He tossed some books on the table and said, “That’s my dream journal, my intrusive thoughts notebook, and the standard journal. Look through them and then tell me whatever you need to tell me for me to get my paperwork signed off on.”

The man pushed the books back to him and said, “I’m not going to read those, but you’re free to talk about anything that you’ve written in them to me. Let’s start there.”

Simon flopped into the seat and rolled his eyes, “There’s nothing in these that I want to talk about. That’s why I wrote them in here. You’re the brain person. The information gets to you whether you read it or I say it.”

“Okay. Well, let’s see what the first entry is in this one…” He picked up the standard journal and read out loud, “I saw that they let the void out into the world again… What’s the void, Simon?”

Simon turned red and didn’t answer. After a while, the man continued reading, “It didn’t look like Grace. It was beautiful like her, but it looked older, which makes sense, because it was gone a while, and now it’s back…” 

Simon snatched the book from his hand and stuffed it into his backpack. “This was a bad idea. I’m not here to talk about or hear about the void.”

“I don’t know what the void is, but you wrote about it, so I’m inclined to believe that you think about it.”

“I’ve seen it!” Simon snapped pounding his fist on the desk. He took a deep breath. “I had a vision, at least I thought it was a vision. Whenever I was 16, when I was with my ex… we weren’t together for a long time, not that way. We were friends, first. We were friends for a long time, but I always loved her. I loved her before she even knew herself. I loved her with all of my heart.” He picked at his forearms where his tally marks were. “She just saw me as a friend, even though it was obvious that we should be together. Maybe I pushed too hard. Should’ve just left well enough alone. I had to have her and what I got was something else. She wasn’t the same. That wasn’t the girl I loved and I didn’t know it until I saw this… vision that I call the void. It came out of her, it engulfed her and consumed her and it took her place.”

“In a dream?”

“I’m not crazy.”

“I would never use that word to describe anyone.”

“I’m not whatever word you would use for crazy people! I know that it wasn’t real. But, I saw it and I knew that it was what replaced my friend. I hated it for taking her away, and I hated her for letting it. The void was just a way of dealing with the separation. I omitted everything connected to it from my life.”

“You voided her out.”

“Yeah. The person who looks like my friend got out of a mental institution a while back. That’s what that entry was about.”

“Do you honestly feel like the person who you saw is a different person than the one that you used to love? Do you believe that this void that you saw replaced her and that the entity you refer to as the void is now existing in the form of your friend?”

“What? No. I’m not crazy!”

“I’m asking you if when you refer to your ex as The Void, is that because you don’t see them as the human that you knew or because you have purposefully reduced them to something subhuman?”

“What difference does that make?”

“One would be purposeful dehumanization of someone you didn’t like and the other would be out of your control.”

“Nothing is out of my control,” Simon said.

“Some things have to be, Simon. Like the fact that you don’t want to be here, but the school is making you in order for you to remain enrolled. You can’t control everything, not even everything in your life. But, just because you can’t control everything, that doesn’t mean that you don’t control anything. So… Did you force this dehumanized version of this girl into your mind, or was it something out of your control?”

“I… I created it. I didn’t want to see the person that I needed turn away from me, so I imagined her as something else.” The man just nodded. “But, she made me do it! She was going to…” he shook his head. He couldn’t think of what it was that Grace had done that was so wrong. He needed to think back, remember the pain she caused him. Remember the damage she was willing to inflict… but, he felt like he was grasping. There had to be some reason. He couldn’t believe that he spent close to what 4 years now hating her for something that she didn’t actually do… _No! She definitely was going to hurt him more than anyone ever had._ “You had to know her. You had to know who she was to know what she could do to me.”

“I looked her up. She recently gave an interview about you. I can send you the link, if you haven’t seen it and are interested.”

“Grace did an interview about me?” He shook his head, “Whatever she said, she’s lying! It didn’t happen that way!”

“Simon… why don’t you do this… See if you can handle what she has to say and we can speak about how it made you feel next time." 

Simon left pretty upset. _An interview? She hadn’t had anything to say all of this time. Why now? Was this some sort of reckoning against him?_ He waited until he got home, glanced around him at all of the destruction he’d caused in the past but few weeks. He had been enraged so frequently that he couldn’t even see his floor. 

But, he couldn’t rush into this. First, he picked up his mess, put things away, discarded what needed to be thrown out thanks to his destructive anger, and washed up for the night. No working on any projects or hobbies. Nothing that he loved or cared about in the event that this interview pissed him off. He let his hair fall and grabbed his phone. They were easier to replace than laptops. _You could STOP raging when you get mad… Yeah right. And risk doing it at school again? They’d put me out for sure._

He opened the link and the first thing he saw was Shana’s face. "This is already a bad start." 

"Hey Shady Kindred! Welcome to Shady Shana’s Dish, where we partake of both relevant and ratchet news. I’m your host, Shady Shana and today, I have a very special guest. My… frenemy turned… friendly associate?" 

Grace laughed. It sounded like music to Simon, even though he glared at her. "Let’s.. just say associate.”

“OOF. Shade. Okay, well… classmates, former classmates, at the very least. This is Grace Monroe. I think my audience would definitely know you. From your videos and songs and stuff. But, let me dish this out, I saw homegirl perform live in NYC, and this bitch had a cello. Okay? A cello! She was singing some opera stuff.”

“I don’t sing opera!”

“She was hitting high notes, this kinda alluring witch noise… you sounded like those tuning things, but like high-pitched… you had to be there. Just… check out her page. I’ll have her links in the description. She’s working on music, putting stuff out all of the time and also attending Julliard. Many talents, very beautiful, sweet, when she wants to be… But, we’re actually here to dish about something that Girlfriend hasn’t talked to anybody about in a long time. Mr. Simon Laurent.” Shana exaggerated how French she said his name and had a look of disgust when she did. 

He rewound to see Grace’s reaction. She nodded. She had prepared herself for this. She didn’t look angry or grossed out. Faking. Lies…

“Yes. I agreed to sit down with you in your really nice little studio here and talk about how I feel about Simon.”

“And just to let you messy ones at home know, we will not be speaking about the old school stuff. Grace was nice enough to give me an exclusive about her current day, so if you came to see what she wanted to say about the old stuff, this will not be the place. What he did do, didn’t do, how he done it, naw! None of that! So, I guess, my first question about it is how would you describe your current feelings about Simon Laurent?”

Grace laughed nervously, licked her teeth, sputtered out air (Simon hadn’t heard that sound in so long), and she shook her head, “It’s a loaded question. Ummm… I can’t say that I really have feelings about Simon. I have memories. I know that we were virtually inseparable for a long time. I know in my mind who I thought he was to me when we were younger, but, none of that has had any real bearing on my life in a while.”

“You don’t think about him or nothin?" 

"I mean… I’ve thought about him, but no, not like actively. It’s not a part of my day. It’s more like an occasional experience, when something triggers it or… even sometimes, it’ll be put of nowhere, but just not often. I don’t even know what Simon looks like right now. If you were to trick me and have him backstage or whatever and he came out here right now, Girl - it might take me a moment to recognize him.” Simon felt himself trembling. _She didn’t even check up on him? She didn’t want to know? Of course she didn’t! She didn’t care about him.._

Shana laughed. “Well, not to be messy…” was her trademark line for when she was about to say something really messy, “Sounds like he’s basically become, what did you two used to call those mediocre types? Non-essential!” Grace’s lip dropped and she titled her head and squinched her face, “Well…” she said in a high pitch, “I… he’s not _present._ He isn’t part of my life. He detached himself from my life, and I had to learn to move on and now, there’s simply no attachments. Like, if I ran into him, no, I might not know him right away, but the moment I realize, I’m sure I’d be overcome with emotions. I couldn’t tell you how I’d react.”

“Would you uppercut his ass?” Grace cackled and covered her face. “I mean.. if anybody deserves it…”

“I don’t think I’d uppercut his ass, as you so eloquently put it. I think… I’d check to see how he’s feeling. How he’s doing. If he’s found his peace now that I’m not there to affect anything. If he’s better off without me, like he figured he’d be.”

“Sooo… if I can get you two in a room, you wouldn’t even lay hands on him?”

“I… remember what happened. I remember how it felt. I remember pain. But, since then, I’ve learned empathy. I’ve learned pacifism. I’ve learned healing. So, it’s not that I’ve forgotten how hard that time was, but I’ve forgiven everything and I’d just be curious if he had forgiven things too.”

“Whooooooooooo,” Shana let our a long deep breath, “You are better than me. Because if I see him, it’s hands on sight. He’d better not have his head turned. I’ll bust him right in his neck vein." 

Grace laughed and shook her head, waving her hands, "I do not share in this sentiment. If you are a Simon stan, do NOT message me. I didn’t say anything bad about this man.”

“Which surprises me, because I know YOU won’t say anything about this, but I’ll say this and I’ve said this to him, as well… I still think that a lot of the things said about you were not true and a lot of the things done to you were just something that basically the lowest form of scum would do to someone. Something a… girl, I’m reaching back for this terminology… it was some… null type shit. Somebody less than zero would do that kind of thing, to anyone, much less someone that they cared about.”

“Well… I can’t speak for him, but you know… maybe he didn’t care about me as much as he seemed to… maybe these things are things you do to people you hate and maybe that’s what it was always gonna be with us. That’s why I would ask him how he’s doing. Maybe he was tired of being stuck around somebody he resented. I don’t know. But, I’ll always value any type of growth that I have. And if nothing else, Simon was definitely a harbinger of growth in my life.”

Simon didn’t realize that he was crying. Shana and Grace wrapped up the show and it went off with some music video that they worked on with a little girl. He didn’t watch it… his vision was too blurry. But he heard the song asking “Where would you be, without me?” And he couldn’t help but feel attacked. But, he closed out the video. If she wanted to see him and ask him how he was doing, sure… he could make that happen…


	20. Sink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for religion and mentions of child pornography

_Lord, if it’s you,” (Simon) Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then (Simon) Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!”_

_-_ _Matthew 14:28-30_

* * *

Simon had never been very religious. Scratch that… Simon had never been very mystical about religion. Whenever he was younger, his family went to church and he was quite studious and learned a lot in that time period. His father still believed in God and country or whatever and his grandmother, he imagined was praying over his mom every single day. But, he had never really known what it felt like to have that kind of faith in anyone or anything… until he was given Grace. It wasn’t lost on him the religious implications of being a boy named Simon (like Simon Peter, aka The Apostle Peter - huge name in the Bible world) being granted a savior, being blessed with Grace after a terrible sin, whether intentional or not, of killing Hope… His mind was in a daze right now. 

It was the fourth religious dream he had since that interview, and in this one, he was Simon Peter, calling to his Savior in the storm. Grace was just across the water. All he had to do was get to her and she would rescue him from all of this, just like she always used to. But, he looked at the impending storm, instead. He had Grace, but he was focused on the storm, and he sank… He jumped up from his sleep and literally felt like he had been drowning. Ugh. 10 years of church and 4 years of private school could definitely mess with one’s mind. Then again, so could 6 years of Grace and 5 years without it… her… 

He had begun to try to stop rationalizing that she wasn’t human. Unfortunately for him, before he considered her the void, she hadn’t been human for him either, then. She had been a deity. He worshipped her. She had been a vessel to save him, to help him, to comfort him. She had been what he built his faith system upon, his religion, his Apex, his lifestyle… Then, she was gone and he tried to continue without her. He tried to rebuild in his own image, in his own name. He tried to walk on water, as he had seen her do, now all he was doing was sinking…

In the aftermath of the interview, Simon noted that his faithful followers went on one of their ravenous attacks in Shana’s comment sections. She could even just post a photo of herself in the newsroom at Spelman as an inspirational post and they appeared in her comments to berate her for speaking about inspiration when she would attack an abuse survivor and have his abuser on her show, trying to make her sympathetic. Shana seemed entertained for some of the comments, replying things like a simple “K” or “Lol” and never addressing the person again, even if they supplied a melee of character attacks at her.

But, on the video link, whenever people started also attacking Grace’s fakeness and the fact that she still gets to abuse Simon indirectly by doing things like this, Shana had enough. She let them know that she had no regrets about the interview with Grace, no regrets about anything that she said about Simon, and none about all of her opinions of him. “Even if he’s a different person today, considering that he never got any backlash for the sex tape from high school, which i firmly STILL believe that he should be held accountable for, which I am convinced that he leaked, and I think that if he’s truly changed, he would have wanted to make that right at some point and free Grace from the uninvited attacks for that CRIME AGAINST HER, committed by him.”

There was an explosion of mixed reactions. Everything from, “This is the first that I’m hearing of this” to “Simon would never have done anything like that to Grace” to “WHERE CAN I FIND A SEX TAPE OF SIMON AND GRACE???” Many people were blocked. Many people were rocked, as Shana went live to address the massive amount of comments coming from her spilling that tea.

She made mention of the facts that while the statute of limitations of revenge porn had been exceeded, they didn’t exist for child porn. “And in case anybody is confused, yes, I am including links to inform you about how what he did is in fact child pornography creation, possession, and distribution, AND what the law says concerning them.” After replying to many of the comments, mostly in an amused fashion, she got bored. 

“Listen, I’m getting ready to go chill with my lady and get ready for class tomorrow, but I’ll just say this one more thing, “I’m not taking my foot off of Simon Laurent’s neck. As long as Grace has had to suffer in silence, because she’s no longer the vengeful type or whatever, she’s on right now in her journey, the journalist in me and the enraged victim in me will always come for Simon and the way he used the privilege that he did have - not to say that he didn’t lack in certain areas like money and common decency, but the ones he DID have - his race, his gender, his orientation, his proximity to education, etc, in order to vilify and humble this girl with false accusations of crimes, and get away with unconfessed crimes. Yeah, this IS about my Sassy Strawberry keychain, Simon you bitch! I know you watching. To those of you who can’t be bothered to use your Googles, I don’t know what to tell you, kinfolk. Shady Shana has said all that she needs to say for now. Tata, from the perfect place for shade.”

Then her accusations, the search for the information of said accusations and the buzz from back then resurfacing went even more viral than the things that he had said about Grace whenever he reached notoriety from the stories. Now that the Internet and social media were even bigger and just kept growing with time, Grace still being a huge public persona, despite the few short years that she wasn’t online and the time she had been inside, she made an explosive comeback at least as an Internet personality, and Simon was never as frequent online as he was a short time in the eye of the public to get himself established, but several professors had used his story for various seminars and lectures, his books did pretty well, and he was a very established young mind in his academic circles… So, he was a big deal in his world, but on the grand scale becoming infamous for this new attention. 

Shana and Grace’s worlds were very large, and both of those were combining to infiltrate his world with these not necessarily new pieces of information, but things that he thought would have been forgotten or left alone. He had not even considered that Shana would ever… Like… why was SHE so damn upset? Because of a small scuffle? Because of somebody else’s alleged injustice? Somebody that she didn’t even LIKE for most of her life? “Journalist” she was a shit-stirrer! All of her muckraking was making things complicated for simple Simon. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like dreaming about Grace as his savior. He didn’t like the idea of reaching out to her to get her to grab her dog. He didn’t like that he was suffering from nights more sleepless than usual and beginning to become counterproductive in his work.

Worrying about ramifications of the words “child pornography” and “sexual predator” being tossed about in conversations with his name led to nightmares, paranoia, guilt, intrusive thoughts, and mistakes in class and at work. One of them turned out big…

Amelia came up to him in her lab, with her arms folded and her face stern, “Is there anything you think we should discuss, Mr. Laurent?” He frowned and glanced her way, still working on the formula for the next tests in the prosthetics serum they were spending time discussing as one of his potential next big things. She raised her eyebrows and asked, “Not even an acknowledgment of what I’m speaking of?”

“I know what you’re speaking of and I decided that no, we don’t need to discuss it. It’s a personal matter.”

“A personal matter? Simon, you are supposed to be seeing a counsellor once a week, and now I find out that not only did he recommend that you see him twice a week, but that you haven’t seen him in several weeks! It is part of your ability to stay here, and I don’t appreciate that you’ve ducked out on this requirement, especially considering the personal matter you’re referring to.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows and set down his supplies. “This is about the shrink? I haven’t been able to see the guy, because I’ve been working on the new formula nonstop. I need a breakthrough, and if I can get the formula right for enhancing the prosthetics, I’ll be famous for that. I’ll be closer to the goal of enriching artificial organs, maybe even organic ones!”

“I know what this work would mean if successful. That isn’t the point. The point is that you are not allowed to be here without the help that you need and you agreed to. I’m going to have to speak to the committee, now that I know you haven’t been…” She turned and he caught her wrist really hard. The woman jerked away. She was stronger than he thought.

“Amelia… Please. I need this. People are out to get me. Out to destroy everything that I’ve built for myself, without parents, without love, without an inheritance. I got here on my own merit, my own mind! I can’t have it be the thing that gets me sent away.”

“You needed to consider that after we gave you another chance! We can’t keep going back and forth with you while you refuse to take the help that you need in order to get to your next rung!” She was loud. He felt like she was yelling at him. He didn’t like people yelling at him, especially women, especially older ones… It made him extremely angry and he yelled right back at her, only to find that she either hadn’t been yelling or she had an even louder yelling setting.

“I’M DOING MY GODDAMN BEST!”

“MAYBE YOUR BEST ISN’T GOOD ENOUGH!”

And in addition to the yelling, the thing yelled was extremely hurtful. But, Simon was an angry hurt type. So, he was hurt, but it manifested in anger, “LIKE YOURS WASN’T! YOU HATE ME BECAUSE I CAN BE A BETTER YOU!” She laughed. That made him even angrier. “ADMIT IT! YOU’RE SO HARD ON ME BECAUSE I AM BETTER THAN YOU!”

“Simon, you’re a child. A foolish, often incorrect child. There are many things that I credit as better than me. You aren’t one of them.” He was breathing hard and clenching his fists. “I advise you to immediately set an appointment with your therapist and I demand that you leave the lab at once. At the very least, you need to take a break. At worse… you broke our agreement, Simon.” She began to touch his research, to put everything away, as he stormed out, trying not to let her see him cry and trying not to explode in the lab and further mess things up for himself. He didn’t get far before there was a different explosion in there. Not an extremely loud one, but loud enough that he turned around as others rushed in. 

Simon got on the phone, calling the last counselor that he had spoken to as everyone else scurried about trying to get help and rushing in various directions. “She was just arguing with Laurent, he rushed out and then this happened,” he heard someone say and he watched the three students who had been talking stop and look right at him. “Are you calling 911?” One of them asked. He shook his head, because he hadn’t been. Once again, it wasn’t his first thought when he witnessed an emergency. One of them grabbed their phone out, presumably to do so and he… left. He probably should have stayed, but he couldn’t breathe and needed some space and needed to rage.

.

It didn’t take others long to start whispering. Simon had found a dumpster to kick for a while before returning to the scene and seeing them rushing Amelia into an ambulance. Police were there and wanted to talk with him. He knew that people would talk. They had been talking. He also knew that sometimes he imagined that people were talking more than they actually were and he hoped that perhaps, this would be one of those times that he imagined the criticism. It was not.

On top of the internet’s allegations of child pornography, learning that the state of California might be investigating these allegations, for the Monroe Estate, and being questioned about his chemical engineering “mistake” with the formula that became unstable as Professor Hughes attempted to put it away… 

Simon was whatever the opposite of numb was. He felt all things, everything, anything, all at once and at a peak. He hadn’t felt this way in a really long time and the only times he had, he had Grace to think of and settle him. After that, he had his own greatness to reflect upon… but that was slipping away from him and Grace had slipped away… No… He had shoved her away, and he needed her so much right now. Because he didn’t know if he could pull himself up from sinking. _“Lord save me!”_ He heard himself yelling from the water in the storm… But Grace couldn’t hear him. She was too far away, and she wasn’t his savior anymore. He looked up for something to latch onto, but all there was, was the Void.

Its big black, form, with an aura of fluid black smoke, and hovered over him and charged at him, its face stopping just short of his own and he looked up to see it. It was nothing but a pale mask, much like one of the ones that Grace used to wear. _Maybe… Maybe she was still inside of the void somewhere. Maybe she would rescue him after all. “Grace?” he called, “Is that you?”_ It had nothing in it’s face. No feeling, no warmth. There was no way that Grace was there. It had no reply. He blinked it away and looked at the police. They had just released him… so… something had saved him… for now. Probably just dumb luck, or lack of evidence. There had to be a lack of evidence, because he knew that he had done nothing wrong.

Despite having done nothing wrong, he had apparently made some type of mistake with the formula, but he figured it was more likely that Amelia had made some mistake in putting it away. It was too soon to voice that opinion. Students were upset, like she was some lovable figure. _She was a bitch._ He didn’t feel bad at all that she was hurt and he hoped that nobody expected him to act like he did. But, they were talking again. He felt like whenever he was a freshman at the academy and the staff and students didn’t appreciate him because they hadn’t seen his value yet… but these people knew him. He was important! He was significant now! He had done everything to become valuable and honored, including giving up Grace when she was holding him back! 

“Simon, it sounds like you’re just blaming everyone else for your problems again.”

“I’m only saying what happened. I matter, and they treat me like I don’t. They look at me like I’m a criminal. They’re handling me like I haven’t done great things! Like they haven’t heard of me or something! Who do they think they are?”

“To not value you? Maybe they’re just strangers, Simon. You’ve spoken to me a few times, and I don’t know you, either. That doesn’t take away from anything that you might have done, but it doesn’t give me the insight that you have of yourself. The same can be said about any of the people here,” the counsellor said. Simon resumed his meetings, but it was too little too late, as he was called back to the committee.

.

Grace was really just trying to enjoy her life. She only did the interview with Shana because Shana had REALLY come through in finding Hazel for her. She explained to the people keeping Hazel how she knew her and how she found her (not mentioning Shana’s name, but that she “hired an investigator”) mainly because she just wanted to see how Hazel was doing. The short answer was “not great,” but the long answer was Grace hated the fact that everyone that she talked to about Hazel didn’t seem to really know her or how to deal with her. That made her afraid that Hazel would continue to get bounced around, and eventually be lost to her again. After being approved as someone who could visit and spend time with Hazel (a longer process than she would have liked, and one that she knew could have been shortened if she just went crawling back to her parents), but one that was worth the work, because not only was she able to see Hazel and talk to her, but she also got her a phone, in case they were separated again and Hazel needed to reach out to her. 

The last thing that Grace wanted to do was be dragged into Simon’s situation. So, whenever people asked her about him, sent her messages, intruded into her comments, @ her in posts… she declined from responding. She made a statement on her linked social media accounts, reminding everyone that 1. She doesn’t speak about Simon. 2. She said everything that she intended to say to people outside of the situation to Shana in the interview. 3. She is not responsible for Shana’s feelings about the incident in question (the recording and sharing of the recording) 4. She has never spoken to anyone but Simon about the incident in question and doesn’t plan on going much more in depth with anybody about it any time soon. 

Whenever asked about the recording, since she did say in the statement that she had spoken with Simon about it, and it was presumed that meant that maybe they had made it together and it got leaked, as those things tend to do, she confirmed that she didn’t know anything about the recording until after everyone else had seen it, that she doesn’t like to think about it or that time in her life because it was one of her most embarrassing and painful experiences and she doesn’t want to have to relive it simply because people are curious about these details that don’t affect them one way or another…

People were relentless and dedicated to being in other people’s business. What about Simon? It affects Simon! Why aren’t you helping clear Simon’s name? Why are you still hurting Simon? What about affecting Simon? She’d punch every last one of these people in the mouth, just like she did Simon when she found out, if they were in front of her. Even, now, being someone trying very hard to be peaceful and patient… “Simon already knows everything about that time that I would be able to say, so telling anyone else anything wouldn’t help him or me. If I was silent about it whenever it might have actually changed my trajectory in a favorable way, I’m certainly not going to begin going off about it now that I’ve been given another chance at a positive life, despite the things that caused me pain. Simon knows more than I do and more than you. Perhaps you should ask him, if you want someone who doesn’t seem to mind speaking about these subjects.”

That was what did it. Simon watched in a panic as former Apex members, arose to defend Grace and admit that during the time, Simon was open with certain people about having orchestrated the recording and using it to oust Grace from her throne. “We were mean kids, and I don’t know if we thought far ahead enough to really see what something like that could do to somebody. We all found it either funny or scary and weren’t brave enough to stand up for her back then, but Grace did nothing wrong and people should let her live her life instead of bringing this back up and hurting her again.” They basically all said some variation of that.

He became immediately notorious as #GraceDidNothingWrong began trending and multiple Apex members, former nonessentials, declared nulls, and actual victims of some of Simon’s direct attacks come forward, opening up about their experiences with Simon’s Apex, the Apex in general, including anecdotes, quotes, confessions, etc to further prove Simon’s guilt. To top it off Simon was put on academic probation as everything unfolded including the way he had been handling his psychiatric deal with the committee being unmet and the negligence that led to Professor Hughes’ accident. When he began losing various deals, gets major backlash for the accident, on top of the allegations of child pornography being investigated, he began to spiral as he considered possible charges from CA to MA. He deleted all of his social media accounts and shadow cyberstalked Grace, only to see that she really wasn’t participating in all of this.

He was SO CLOSE to his first Master’s degree. He couldn’t let all of this throw away his future! He was young and stupid and maybe he was wrong, but he wasn’t going to say that and he definitely didn’t feel like he deserved to be punished for it right now! 

He had been trying not to think about that interview, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more he obsessed over it - over her wondering how he was doing, over the potential for her to actually still care. It was so stupid. It was foolish. There was no way that she really felt like that, but all of his distraction had caused him to possibly make some type of stupid mistake. The police were investigating, but he was the main one working in the lab, so whatever happened was most likely due to some type of misstep on his part. He certainly had not rigged anything to explode in Professor Hughes’ face, like some seemed to be trying to suggest! 

The fact that they did not get along wasn’t very helpful to him. The argument right before it happened made it even more suspicious, and where they should have been able to speak with his psychiatrist to ensure that he was doing fine… he hadn’t been consistent with any long enough for them to know that he was doing fine… which brought attention back on him from the committee, which he guessed felt like he was jumping through loopholes in their deal. He saw the Void again, it's voice like a chorus of succubi singing, “I’ve come to take everything from you. It’s what you deserve.”

He rushed to the airport. He didn’t even have a place to stay. He rushed to the Monroe’s, snuck into their gate and beat on the door. It was 2 am, but he couldn’t wait. The Void was after him, and he NEEDED his Grace.


	21. How Long Has It Been?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for stalking/stalker behavior

Mr. Monroe threatened to call the police on him. Simon saw Mrs. Monroe in the back in a nightgown and a bathrobe, a scarf tied around her head and a phone to her ear, so… they were already in the process of calling the cops and there was a station in this gated community, so it wouldn’t take long.

“Look, I know that I messed up. I don’t know what came over me, but I need to talk to her. I need to… I saw the void! I saw the void again and Grace was nowhere around. Don’t you get it? It wasn’t her! It was never her. The vision was about ME! I was going to destroy her. It was a warning… and instead of a warning, it became a prophecy, because I did EXACTLY that!”

“You sound like a maniac. Get off of my property, before I pull a gun out on you like your father did to my child!”

“You don’t own a gun. You have a very firm no gun belief system, and think that you’ll never be in a situation where you’d need one,” Simon said. “I’m sorry to stop by like this. I just need to tell her…”

“Even if I knew how to get in touch with Grace outside of her representative, I would never give you that information after everything you did to our family.”

Simon leaned on Mr. Monroe, hugging him and crying. The man groaned and let him in, had some tea made to try to calm him down, and whenever the police showed up, gave him a chance to try to explain himself to them before deciding if he would press charges.

He didn’t make any more sense than he did whenever he tried to explain it the first time. “I had this vision, five years ago. I thought it was about Grace and I really hurt her. I don’t know… I don’t know how I even had it in me to do that. I loved Grace, more than anything in this world.”

“You envied Grace. There’s a big difference,” Mrs. Monroe said. “You wanted to be like her. You wanted the things that she had - the money, the charm, the family, the future in the palms of her hand. You thought that being close to her could gain you access to the same things, so when she had a moment to potentially be away from you, you lashed out at her. If you couldn’t keep her and have access to those things, you were willing to step all over her to get to them yourself. You’re a despicable person and had I known that you did what you did to her, the police would be here, asking questions to try to figure out where your body was!” Mrs. Monroe said, in the most frustrated tone he had ever heard her use, with something else - anger, hurt, shame… hatred. “I warned her that you were no good, but I had no idea the brand of trash you were. We should have put our foot down and excavated you from her life at the first sign of… you. Officers, please remove this rubbish from my home.”

Simon had gathered his wits by then, apologized to everyone, “Especially you Mrs. Monroe.” She glared at him. She did NOT like to be seen while she was unpresentable, and he was the last person that she ever wanted to see again, anyway. He felt that she was wrong, but he didn’t care to say it. There was no way that he never loved Grace. There was no way that he only ever saw her as a commodity. He didn’t know what had happened, but he couldn’t believe that was it. The police escorted him to a motel and he slept it off, then flew to New York the new day.

.

Grace came out of the building, thinking about all of her weekend plans, looking at her phone, ready to go home whenever she noticed someone standing, watching her. She stopped moving completely as he walked towards her, hair blowing in the wind, scruffy face scowling, and march determined. “Simon.” She didn’t want to say much more. She didn’t know how to even process the fact that he was here, in front of her, in a space that was set far apart from their past together.

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms, “So, you did recognize me right away.”

“Guess I did,” she said and laughed a little. One of the other students was passing by and she grabbed them and said, “Hey. You think you could wait for me a moment, while I chat really quick with my estranged friend?” The woman looked at her like she’d never seen her before, but then looked at Simon and nodded.

“I’ll be right over here.” She stopped and called someone on her phone. Simon didn’t know what was at play there, but it troubled him. Truth be told, he figured that this might be unreasonable. He hadn’t been able to connect with her any other way, and he had been trying even before he flew to Atherton to see her folks. Now that he was here, he was second guessing this idea. Especially not having taken care of himself for a few days? Weeks? _How long had this been going on for him? It felt endless._

“So… I guess you watched Shana’s interview...” She broke into his thoughts. _Way to go._ He was just staring at her, not even seeing her, but lost in his own mind. She nervously clutched a fancy dance bag that he knew was full of necessities for class and a bunch of beauty stuff, and her purse, which her hand was inside of… probably reaching for a weapon, like Shana did when he last saw her.

“Yeah. I saw it. I didn’t know that the two of you kept in touch.”

“Much like you, she just popped up suddenly in my life, out of nowhere.” She rocked apprehensively, glanced at the “friend” waiting for her. Her body language was all wrong for her words in the interview.

“You’re the one who said that you wanted to see how I’m doing...” It came out more accusatory than he intended, but SHE said that, and now that he was here to check in with her, she was acting like he was a threat. She wasn’t asking him how he was doing. She didn’t seem at peace or even nice, to be honest. It was upsetting him. He thought that seeing her would make a difference, and so far, the difference was he felt like he hadn’t gained anything by being face to face with her...

Once again, she broke into his thoughts. “In that completely hypothetical situation, we either ran into each other, or someone arranged a meeting between us, which we both agreed to. You did not just show up where I go to school and randomly wait outside for me! That is… VERY unsettling, Simon. Especially considering our history!”

“So, you _don’t_ want to know how I’m doing?” His face was red and she knew that look in his eyes. She had crossed him by not giving him whatever it was that he expected to get from her today. Old Grace would have been sweet and pumped him up and smoothed him over. She even had an urge to do that. For a split second, then she remembered everything that followed her catering to him for so long… the way that he eventually felt so entitled that her own autonomy was a threat to him, so much that he would crush her just to keep her from expressing herself. Now, she was red in the face.

“Simon, I have to go. Please, never do this again. I hope that you’re doing okay, but you can’t do things like this. We haven’t even spoken in five years, after YOU cut us off.” She started to walk towards the lady who was kind enough to wait for her.

“I thought it would be good if we had that talk!” Simon called out urgently, desperate for her not to walk away. _Please. I’ll sink._

She stopped walking away and turned around, abruptly, confused and a little beyond irritated at this point. “Talk? What talk, Simon?”

“The one that you mentioned before. When you asked me if we could talk it out…”

She stared at him in a way that he comprehended to mean that she thought something was wrong with him. He got that look more than he liked, and he remembered the times when she gave him that look before they fell apart. He remembered all of the times other people have given him that look since then. It was a look that he was wrong. That he had said something wrong or done something wrong and they were about to judge him for it. He couldn’t take her looking at him like this right now. “Don’t look at me that way…” He warned. That only deepened the fear and worry in her eyes. He clenched his fists and tried to ignore the look. If she just let him explain, she would understand and not be afraid.

Campus security pulled up and Grace’s “friend” went to talk to them. Simon saw her pointing in his direction and he told Grace, “Just… come with me. We’ll talk.” But, she didn’t like this entire scene. She didn’t like the mood. She didn’t like the desperation in his bloodshot eyes, the way that they looked black when she knew that they were gray, the way he seemed threatening. “I have to know that I didn’t imagine it all,” he said. She squinted her eyes at him. “That everything that I did was...”

“What, justified? No. I’m not giving you THAT, Simon. I’ll give you the fact that I think you honestly believed that you were right at the time, but I’ll never say that what you did to me was right. No matter what I did, I never did anything to you. You were wrong about _something_. Either the years that we were together, or the ones that we were apart. All you really have to do to figure out which is ask yourself which one of those felt better to you? Which one worked? Which felt natural and right?”

He began crying. _It felt natural and right when they were together, but she didn’t want him! He did what he... he did what he could do to hurt her._ Grace reflexively placed her hand on his face. The years apart didn’t seem to take away from her need to help him when he was upset. In a matter of minutes, she had gone from suspicious, to alarmed, to angered, to afraid, to concern, and Simon knew that pity was just around the bend. “Get away from me. It’s not safe.”

Her time on the inside gave her all of the knowledge she needed to know that when a person asked for space, you gave it to them. She nodded and backed away and could see the instant hurt he felt when she removed her hand. She came forward again, but he shook his head and backed away from her. She nodded her head and backed up, watching him sit on the sidewalk, covering his face as he cried.

“I feel so stupid about this. Everything you did to me, and I worried how you were. I looked at you and you looked so lonely and unhappy and I hoped that you had someone. The thing that’s hurt the most through all of this has been not being able to protect you anymore.” He looked up at her with shock and hurt. _Great. The pity has arrived._ The campus security was heading their way. _And so has the danger..._

“Can we leave and keep talking?” He picked himself up from the ground, his eyes a little lighter and more hopeful, but the emotional distress of the past few moments was too much for Grace to agree to continuing in an uncontrolled environment. She had to look out for herself and whether or not she cared about Simon or was concerned, she had to matter more to herself than that did.

“Contact my rep. The information is on my website. They’ll arrange a meeting, if you really want to talk. Right now, I have to go.”

“Grace…”

“Those are my boundaries, Simon. Either you do what I need you to do to arrange this, or the only thing that I am saying to you is I hope you get things sorted out.”

“Fine!” He stormed off as campus security came to speak with her. She shook her head and tried to explain that they had a bad breakup and she hadn’t seen him in years. She thanked the stranger for staying and calling for help. The woman hugged her, both of them very emotional, connecting over this small but important show of solidarity. Then, she was afraid to go home. She wasn’t sure what he had already staked out, and she remembered him being excellent at picking a rather expensive lock years ago. But, she did have to fly back home to visit with Hazel. Knowing that Simon was in New York and just STOPPED BY her school??? It made her entire world shift beneath her.

She needed to get out of town for a few days and go see her favorite girl. She needed to call her therapist. She needed to have a detoxifying shower, and she needed to speak with her family and her friends, just as a reminder that she might still be alone, but she wasn’t lonely like when she needed Simon, when the most important thing would have been to agree to go with him and make sure he was better. She was better now. She had boundaries. She had friends. She had the ability to call her mother, whether or not it was helpful and hang up when it wasn’t.

.

Grace had been working hard with everyone so that she could to get more access to Hazel. Currently, the home the girl was staying at allowed her visits, and she had even gotten upgraded to being able to have accompanied weekends. Simon showing up during this just gave her a bad feeling. The reason she was held at arm's length from Hazel in the first place was because of her “history.” If she and Simon weren’t discussing him recanting the things that he said about her… at least the untrue things, she didn’t know what they had to talk about, and going over it with her friend from around the way only made everything that much more apparent.

“He just showed up!” Grace fussed. “And apparently, he ALSO just showed up at my parents’ home not too long before!”

“WHAT?”

“Yeah. My dad said that he was apologizing to him and begging him to tell him how to get in touch with me and my dad had to tell him that the only way to get in touch with me is through my rep, and that even they get in touch with me the same way.”

“That’s so maddening. He showed up at your parents.”

“Crying and saying that he needed to talk to me. Something about school and me being the only person that could help him… which… is a totally different mood than what he was giving me outside of school. He looked like at any moment, he was gonna take a swing at me and only cried when I wasn’t going along with him. For all I know, those were fake tears. I don’t know. They seemed real, but he was just scary and I think he’s always been that scary and I just never thought it would be directed at me, so I always accepted it and him.”

“From what you’ve said, even though you hadn’t said this much before today, that cat seems mad dangerous. Like. Be safe. Something ain’t right. How did he know where to find you?”

“Don’t get me started on the fact that he had to either guess which way I’d come out, or have been watching the place and searching! I took my school off of my bios. I was so proud to get in there and still be able to work and still be able to study. I never should’ve bragged about being there. I didn;t ever think I’d be stalked! Like… This is off to a bad start already, and now he’s contacted my rep and she’s thinking not just a public space, but a publicized space. She thinks we should have any future conversation on camera.”

“On camera? I think you should have it on a camera call. I don’t think that you should be anywhere near that man. What if you’re in the same room with him and he ATTACKS attacks you, not with just words and tricks but like with his fists or a weapon? Think about this kid that you love.”

“The one that they won’t even let me take in because I’m a violent lunatic,” Grace complained. Once again, she was mad about how Simon’s ministrations had negatively affected her life (was STILL doing so, and might for the rest of her life).

“You might be able to get him to admit to some lies on camera and use that in your defense to try to get approved as Hazel’s custodian. That would be the only reason I would have for you to even think about this.”

“You’ve… got a point…”

“Or else just get him to talk to the people at the agency or whoever has been handling her case and he could meet with them to talk to them about it, to show that he means it when he says that he wants to talk things through. And THEN, after he’s talked to them, then you can maybe sit down and have this on camera conversation. I just think he’s given you nothing for you to talk to him just because he’s in a bad way now. What about when you were in a bad way? He just turned the knife from the way I’ve taken it.”

“GIRL.”

‘“What?”

“I just looked up him and the school and they think that he had something to do with a teacher getting injured in the lab!”

“WHAT???”

“Let me call you back. Thank you for listening to me. I’m always so secretive, then I have these bursts of unloading. You know you’re welcome to unload on me…”

“I unload on you all the time. Your ass be like, ‘Oh my gosh, that’s so terrible. I am like totally enraged about this for your sake. What do you need me to do?” They both laughed at her spot on impression of Grace. “It’s my pleasure to reciprocate sometimes. We care about your ass and you have so many walls. It’s nice whenever you let somebody in and get to see that not everybody is this dude. I also expect you to tell me about this teacher injury next time!”

“Will do.” Grace hung up and scrolled the story.

Simon had been brought to the police station for questioning when one of his professors, Amelia Hughes, was in a laboratory accident following him leaving the lab. Foul play is suspected, but Simon was not arrested and possibly not a suspect… “So, they just had him answer questions because he was the last one there. Okay…” She heard a knock on her door and she grabbed her purple nail bat and looked through the peephole. It was Hazel and her case worker. “Coming!” She stuck the nail bat in the top of the closet by the door and shut it before opening the door. “Heyyyy.”

“Hi, Miss Monroe. This one has been really excited to see you this weekend.”

“I’m excited to see her!” Hazel and Grace hugged each other tightly. The only thing harder were their large smiles.

“What do you have planned?”

“Oh… some fun girl stuff. Making videos, dancing, singing, sightseeing some animals and...” she reached for some tickets and flashed them, “The Mighty Tuba on Ice!” Hazel screamed and jumped up and down. Grace joined in with her.

“Well, have fun, and between you and me, she’s never so happy as when she gets time with you.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that and hurt my heart when I’ve gotta turn her back over..”

Hazel frowned, “Nobody’s thinking about that time yet. God, Grace!” Grace squeezed her into another hug, temporarily pushing Simon from her thoughts and hoping that was her last unannounced encounter with him.

.

Simon was extremely shaken up from his run in with Grace. Well… a run in wasn’t exactly what it was. He made himself look like a stalker and now, not only was he no closer to having some time alone with her, but he probably just made it impossible for her to agree to it! Stopping by her parents’ house had been an act of desperation. To have gotten the crying and shit under control, but to still look completely unhinged in front of Grace? THEN STILL not have the crying and shit under control??? Her rep was never going to call him back, now.

He was angry, at first. The way that she looked at him and responded to him, like he was some strange person that she never knew or cared about. The way that he didn’t feel her love for him. _“I could love you through anything. I always have,”_ had been one of the last things she had said to him and he had carried it with him, even when he hadn’t wanted to. There was just this genuine tone to it. She really seemed to believe it, and he was starting to think that maybe it had been true and he had been wrong. The trip was a huge failure and now he didn’t know WHAT to believe.

He flew back to MA and got to work on plotting out his next steps if he was arrested or kicked out of MIT. Fortunately, Professor Hughes was going to make it. He just hoped that she would know that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to do whatever it was it looked like was done to her that day. Then again… people were starting to think that he was losing his mind. He HAD to get a regular shrink and he had to turn this around somehow. He was in the middle of coming up with every available tactic, leaning over in front of his three laptops with graphs and estimations of his potential trajectories for every outcome he could fathom whenever his phone rang from a private number. “Simon Laurent,” he answered. 

“...” The voice was so balanced. This person seemed just fine, unlike the man waiting outside for her. Maybe it was because he didn’t know it was her. Maybe in a moment, he might change his tune. Fuss at her for not rushing off to talk to him, accuse her of things again, hang up on her and go back to hating her from afar...

“Hello?” He glanced at the phone to see if they were possibly disconnected. With everything going on, he had a lot of people contacting him and he had to speak with many of them - lawyers, publicists, school administration...

“Hey…” _Grace._ He sat down and held the phone tightly in his hand, unsure if he should say anything. The silence was uncomfortable, but he could tell she had more. “I do want to talk to you, face to face, in person, but it will have to be on camera.”

“More of your boundaries?”

“Yes. Also, I need something in return for agreeing to this conversation.”

“What is it?”

“I need you to speak with the DFCS about the claims against me and admit to your lies. I’m not asking you to come clean to the world and ruin your books sales or whatever, but just on the record to family services.”

“You… have a child?” He asked. For a moment, his heart rate became uncontrollable. _Had people been wrong about the abortion? Did they have a small kid somewhere? What was their name? What did they look like? Could he meet them? Did they know about him? About what he had done to their mother?_

“There’s a child that I’m interested in.” _Oh._ “Her worker loves me. The home she’s been at adores me, and she’s been a handful for them whenever I’m not around to level things out. Everyone thinks it would be a good match, but my record has been working against me. If you could speak with them, then a girl who needs a stable home would have one. You still care about kids, right?”

Simon felt tears running down his cheeks. He had forgotten that there ever was a time that he did like kids. He certainly hated the idea of some kid being without a stable home. He knew exactly what that could lead to. Grace was a lot of things back in the day, but she was always nurturing… if she cared about you. “Yeah… Yeah, sure… Send me their info. I’ll talk to them.”

She let out a relieved sigh, “Thank you so much, Simon.”

“You’re welcome…” He felt his face blushing… He hoped that he could help her. That meant that stuff was changing, right? He wiped his tears as he heard the click on the other line. He’d better not get his hopes up. This was still Grace. She could have been speaking sweetly just so he could help her with this favor, but he did take a lot from her and she still came out on top of things. She deserved one good thing for her strength alone. So, he’d help her, whether or not he knew where they stood or if he could trust her. A kid… Had she wanted… that pregnancy?

He opened some files of the stories reporting her going in and out of the privacy center. She didn’t look well. He couldn’t believe that five years ago whenever he saw this photo that he didn’t rush to her and tend to her every need. He just couldn’t understand why he had ever did any of what he did! 

Now, he was cyberstalking again. She posted something about, “Hoping to be with my number 1 for a very long time!” with a photo of her at some type of event with a small light brown girl with hair as blond as his own. They were both wearing face masks over their mouths, so he couldn’t see all of her features… She was small… but she was too old… Maybe. Maybe she was just a tall 5? No… theirs would have been closer to 4. Pregnancy lasts almost a whole damn year… or… 3? How long ago was all of that? He lost track of time spending so much of it distancing himself from her.

It was almost summer of their 16th… It was spring… 5 years ago. Now, it’s… Damn… It was almost exactly five years since he threw her to the wheels of the train that they were supposed to be on forever together. He had done more than thrown her to the wheels, he’d kicked her with all of his might and laughed when she went under. She was never going to love him again. She would never let him back in. _Maybe.. If you just… help her with this? It’s important to her. She’ll look at you like she used to. She’ll see you as her companion again. Or, she’ll feel like you owe her this, and not even give you any gratitude…_ Simon groaned and held his head. He picked up his phone and pulled up a contact: Dick for Brains.

“You’ve reached the office of Dr. Richard. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. If you’re experiencing an emergency, please hang up and dial 911. If your crisis is not as extreme, but still immediate, please press 3 for a list of crisis centers to call…” Beep.

“Dr. Richard. It’s Simon Laurent… The… The ummm… I’ve spoken with you a few times. I’m having… I did some things that didn’t make any sense, not even to me. I don’t know how to get back to normal.” He sobbed. “I’m scared. I need her…” He shook his head and hung up the phone. When Dr. Richard called back, he set up an appointment, by choice this time, not force. _That's a start, I guess._ The next thing on his list was to arrange a conversation with the DFCS for Grace.


	22. Unpacking a Few Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had most of this damn conversation written out almost since the beginning of the story! So, I am SO GLAD to finally be able to give it to y’all.

Grace hadn’t wanted this to become a “Finally, we'll get the truth" type of hyped up event. Because she was mostly wanting to tell Simon to his face how he had affected her life and maybe gain a better understanding of why. She hadn’t wanted to expose him or dig up any of the old feelings. She wanted to move past them and never have to worry about them hurting her again. That was extremely difficult, as she tried to make notes of everything that she wanted to address and how she wanted to word it, she found that the words that she knew she should say were not necessarily the ones that she felt deep down inside. She even tried to get with her therapist to make the best selection of words. Then, to be on the safe side, she was sure to have the woman be there for this meeting. 

Whenever Simon arrived at the rented studio, he looked like a completely different person. He looked like he had gotten everything refreshed right before he entered the building. His hair was shiny and clean, brushed, but not pulled up into his ponytail. He had shaven, his eyebrows and lashes seemed to be perfectly maintained. She made notes of the amount of self care (or spa treatment, possibly) - the manicure, the glowing skin, the glistening smile. It was like that person outside of Julliard had been an imaginary, distorted doppelganger. 

He had a few people with him, and she recognized one as his lawyer, one was she thought his publicist, maybe, and there was another man that she had never seen before. She glanced at her own therapist, still so fly in her pantsuit, even though she was just on the sidelines, and they smiled at each other. Grace knew she would be okay with her there. Whenever the cameras began rolling, it was Grace’s doctor that nudged her head that she could begin. 

Grace held cards in her hands, just to not forget anything. Simon sat smugly across from her, staring at her like he was waiting on her, like he was impatient, almost… like he hadn’t come to her, begging for this chance to talk! That already rubbed her the wrong way, so she started with that. “Simon, it’s good to see that you look well. The last time I saw you, it was… more than a little troubling. Were you able to get things sorted out?”

Something flashed in Simon’s eyes like shame and shock for a moment, like he wasn’t expecting her to speak about _that._ He blinked, tilted his head, nodded and she noted the exact moment that he switched from his honest feelings to whatever lie he was ready to spin. “There have been some very hurtful, very potentially future threatening allegations made against me, and I suppose that I just made a few rash decisions in trying to cope with these sudden stressors. I didn’t mean to _trouble_ anybody while I dealt with that.”

“When you say hurtful allegations, you mean hurtful in that the allegations could possibly affect what you value,” she said, “Not like it hurts you personally to know that people are speaking about what you did…”

“Allegedly. What I allegedly did.”

“What you told me that you did,” she blurted, and there it was again, that blend of shame and shock, now with a heap of anger. “Which… I will say, I never told anyone that, aside from my therapist, so the fact that other people have come around saying that you also told them the same thing does seem to be a little more than allegedly.” She sniffled, “Because, I didn’t even realize that you had said that to anyone else. I thought, at worst that you were bragging about sex. I mean, we were both virgins until that weekend and we spent a few days exploring. I did things that had never crossed my mind to do and I figured, a teenage boy will probably tell his friends at least a few of these things… But then whenever you told me that it didn’t even matter to you…” Simon clutched the arms of the seat tightly and tried to catch his breath, “I was heartbroken. Because, it meant the world to me. Then, well you know what you told me about it after that, and you know that I got really angry and I hit you.” 

He relaxed a little more. It was so much easier for him to focus on the things she did to him than to face the things that he’d done to her. “Right. You injured my gums and tried to give me a concussion,” he laughed a little and said, “I knew that was my fault. I even said to to your mom after she pulled you off of me.” 

Grace furrowed her eyebrows and she asked, “Are you trying to antagonize me right now? Because, that’s not why we’re here.” He ONLY told her mother that in order to make her look worse, and they both knew it, so the mind games apparently were still on the menu...

“Okay. I thought we were going to point out the shitty things that we did to each other so that we could _both_ feel bad,” he said in an accusatory tone, as that was what it felt like she was doing to him at the moment.

“My list would be so short, Simon. In fact, why don’t I get it out of the way for you, because we both know that I didn’t do anything at all to hurt you or anger you until I told you that I was going to go to college!”

“You did plenty before then, I just always gave you a pass,” he said through his teeth.

“On WHAT, exactly?” she asked.

“Let’s start with the fact that you thought it would be good idea to display my pain about my family to get into your bougie ass school, because you didn’t want to be alone!” She flinched at that. She had absolutely forgotten about it, but was unsure if it warranted his hatred, especially because that was years before and it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to take it back… 

“Then, whenever I got into the school, you didn’t even notice that they were making me miserable. You didn’t care that I had to rip my own heart out and serve it up to be near you because by then you had everybody so charmed that you didn’t need me or want me around anymore.” She clenched her cards and bit her lip. That wasn’t _accurate._ It was... _a perspective,_ but not hers... “Your mother talked about me like I was a piece of filthy garbage when she met me, and you just stood there!”

“I was terrified of her, and you know that...”

“I shouldn’t have been a surprise! Why didn’t you TELL THEM that I was taking you? Because, you knew that she wouldn’t approve, even though we were going as friends and you were too ashamed of me to clear it up first. You didn’t care to even consider my feelings again until I almost beat a guy to death for you!” 

She felt tears welling up in her eyes. She… had sort of forgotten about that too. More accurately, she hadn’t thought about it in many years. “I’m not a fool. Grace. I took note of what made you happy, of what made you care about me. I only mattered to you whenever I was protecting you. You only cared about me whenever I was exacting revenge in your name. You got so mad when that girl called me your guard dog, but what the fuck else was I ever to you?”

“I THOUGHT you were my FRIEND! I thought we protected EACH OTHER!” She cried, “It’s not fair to bring my mother into this. You know that was different. Nobody else would have been able to get away with that in front of me. It was HER! What could I do? You know I was terrified of her!”

“That’s why I didn’t hold it against you. But, you wanted a list, _Love._ ” He narrowed his eyes at her and she took a deep breath, centering herself as he scoffed and continued, “You smiled, laughed, cheered me on so many times when I was hurting someone for you, then when you decided that wasn’t enough anymore, you became bored with me and irritated when I responded the same way I always had. We never even had a discussion that we shouldn’t do that anymore! How was I supposed to know that you didn’t want that anymore? But, I took responsibility for you to not look like a violent brat… which. You. WERE! You just happened to not be being one THAT time!”

Grace didn’t feel like pointing out that she repeatedly tried to intercede that night and many nights like it. She definitely knew that he was the more violent of the two of them. Sure, she started it when they were 12, but she grew out of it when they were 15 or so, and according to the reports about charges against him, he STILL hadn’t. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. He looked suspicious. She nodded her head and said, “I’m sorry for convincing you to do things that you didn’t want to do for me. I’m sorry for making you hurt for me to feel comfortable. I’m sorry for any times that I was unfair, or untrue, or unclear. I’m sorry for being confusing. I guess I didn’t know enough about myself to know what I wanted or what I liked, so I was willing to try a lot of things out and I must’ve accidentally neglected your needs in the process. All this time, I honestly just presumed that the things we did together and for each other were the things that kids did for their friends, for people that they loved and respected. I just didn’t have the insight to realize that it would’ve hurt you enough to make you feel like you had to do what you felt like you had to do to me.” She bit her lip, trying not to cry and looked at her therapist. The woman seemed chill, so she guessed that she didn’t look as bad as she felt.

Simon was silent for a long time. His lip was quivering and his heart was pounding. He let out a shudder and leaned back, covering his face with one hand. This scared her. This was similar to what he did right after she told him that she was thinking about leaving. “I don’t need you to apologize for any of that. My entire point was that it _didn’t_ matter to me. I loved you. I didn’t care about enduring those things. I cared about you… growing apart from me.” He uncovered his face and this might have been the first time all day that he had been genuine. “It didn’t feel good to watch you bloom and to feel like I was this weed that was wrapping all around you… but… I couldn’t stop myself. The more you tried to grow away, the tighter I wrapped myself around you and… and…” He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

Hearing him say those words was something that she never thought would happen, especially when he came in today, acting brand new again. She offered him a gentle smile and chuckled a little bit. “This is why instead of me calling on all my witchy friends or leaning back on my parents’ wealth or something to get back at you, I basically told the universe that whatever happens happens. I feel like we all get what we deserve, eventually, and I didn’t know that it would be today, but I have to admit, I do feel like I deserved that apology.”

“What do you think I deserve?” Simon asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes still damp, but smiling slightly. 

She shrugged her shoulders, “I think you deserve whatever you deserve.”

He sat up very suddenly, his body stiffened and he looked at her, hurt, confused, angry, again. She looked confused as well, because she thought the conversation was going well and she couldn’t guess what she said that he didn’t like! “You think that the things that have happened to me were deserved? My family, my trauma... those are things you believe that I deserved, as a kid?”

“What? No. I’m not talking about that. I’m just saying...”

“YOU’RE TALKING SIDEWAYS AGAIN!” He fussed and snatched off his mic. “You can never just be straight up! You brought me here JUST to throw it in my face that things have been going badly for me and that it’s my own fault for hurting you!”

“That’s not what I meant, at all! All I meant is that we don’t have to try to seek our own vengeance. You and I used to do that and it only brought us more pain and years of being apart. I thought that we JUST established all of this, Simon!” 

"You lied to me. You made me think you cared about me. You told me we were friends. You said that I was half of you and then you just cut me off like I was nothing! I was never anything to you! I never would be because you don't care about anybody but yourself and I loved you so I couldn't see it. THAT’S what we just established. Well, you're nothing to me now. I come here to settle things and you’re just feeding me more lies, this time for everybody to see? You really think I’m such a fool! Maybe I am for even agreeing to this. I THOUGHT you wanted us back.”

"I'm sorry that I made you feel that way Simon. I know you're hurting and I'm partially responsible for that. But, I loved you. I loved you for a long time and I think I maybe always will. I was wrong to say that you were half of me. I should have found ways to be complete without you. We were children! But now, we're both people who have gone our separate ways, done life without each other, and came out on the other end. We can make better choices. We can change. It doesn't have to be this pain between us, this anger, this hate... I can't make you forgive me but I promise you, I did love you and my life has not been the same without you.”

"Bored without your worshippers?”

"Sad without my friend.”

"You were never my friend. You were some rich kid who thought she could play with me like a toy until you got bored with me.”

"You left me, Simon. Not the other way around!

"YOU WERE GOING TO TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME!!! You were going to destroy what we built! You were going to ruin what I had. What I DESERVED.”

"I was going to give up things I didn't need. You were never on that list!!! You were ALWAYS essential! My biggest mistake was not letting you know that. I don't know where I went wrong. But, I’m sorry that i didn’t notice. I’m sorry for the things that I didn’t even realize or remember. For whatever part I played in all of this, I’m sorry and I want to forgive you for your part. But, I can’t even begin to do that, if you keep insisting that it was all my fault. And… I just want it to be over. I was extremely hurt. I still am, in a lot of ways that we haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of. But I missed my best friend. You didn't miss me?”

He had tears pouring from his eyes and quite frankly, he was sick of how frequently this had been happening to him, but what could he do? His life was falling apart and the one thing he wanted and needed back in it was trying to give him a lifeline… and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to take it! He wanted to, but it all hurt so much. Just thinking about what he did hurt, and they hadn’t even scratched the surface? Of course they hadn’t! Y _ou know what the fuck you did to her…_

Grace closed the space between them and said, in a soft voice, “Sometimes, I’m so angry that I can’t see straight. I think about how much you hurt me and I focus on all of the details, every single place that I might have went wrong, and I’m at a loss for coming up with anything that has made sense of it to how you were able to be somebody that would kill for me one day, then be the person who...” She sobbed, “I was crying. I was breaking right in front of you and you didn’t even budge. You were so harsh that sometimes, my mind can’t even believe that it happened that way. I think that whenever I snapped, I must’ve reimagined things and made you out to be more cruel than you were, because surely my Gray Eyes, my Partner in Crime wouldn’t have did the things that you did or said the things that you said.” She covered her face with both hands and Simon stared at her, unable to formulate a response.

 _I did it? Yep, it happened just like that. Now, you know good and damn well you didn’t imagine that... Like... what does one say to somebody whose life they purposefully tried to end in every way but physical? Someone that they once meant the world to?_ “And you’re still just standing there...” She said from beneath her hands.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. Not an easy thing for somebody like him to admit - a perfectionist, a know-it-all, a smartass... He knew nothing, especially not what he could do to help this clusterfuck that he both asked for and provided...

“BE SOFT WITH ME AGAIN!” She screamed. He jumped at her loud cry. “For fuck’s sakes, Simon, haven’t you been mad and mean long enough for it to suffice for the suffering you thought I deserved? I’m HUMAN! I did things that hurt people. I did things that hurt you and you got back at me, tenfold! I have to live with the mistakes I’ve made everyday. They bother me. I want to be a different person today. If you can live with being cold for the rest of our lives, I can’t change that, but unless we’re leaving here today, DEAD to each other, be. gentle. to. me.” 

His hand shook as he reached forward, scared to touch her, lest she crumble into countless shards. But, his hand connected with cheek and she let out an exhale that sounded like she had been holding her breath for years. He withdrew his hand, scared that this was a mistake. He should leave. Dead to each other wasn’t so bad. That was probably better than allowing himself to get caught up in her again, which he felt was right around the corner, if he didn’t leave immediately...

Grace hugged him as he tried to pull away and maybe she should have just respected his wishes, but she didn’t this time. He owed her at least a hug, damn it! “I loved you, Simon. I loved you in spite of the things that happened and besides the fact that you say you hate me... I think you'll always be loved, as long as I'm alive.” Simon broke down crying against her and started to collapse to the floor, a lot like he did outside of Julliard, but this time, Grace went down with him, instead of just watching, refusing to let him go and wrapped her legs around his body. 

Simon curved into a fetal position in her arms, crying uncontrollably, remembering the last time he held someone this close for this long... his sister... whenever he couldn't get her to wake up and he was crying and trying to bargain with her to get her to please wake up. “I’ll never hurt you again,” he said. “Please, don’t leave me. I need you.”

He had to be pried away from Hope for her to get medical attention, but it was too late. And his parents hated him for it. They never held him again. He was afraid that Grace wouldn't have him. He didn't know that he could still BE held. Even then, while it was happening, he expected to die from the shock, or the stimulation of the discomfort of being held again when the last time was so horrible and this time, he was so _unforgivable_...

Then again... he _had_ been held since Hope. Not this long, but Grace had held him before - held his hand, had her arms around him, held him in place when she taught him moves. Held him lovingly against herself as they explored the more carnal side of their connection... 

She had been... a good friend. But... he’d shoved her away the moment she seemed like she might turn him away too. He had to hurt her before she could hurt him. He had to show her that he was the Apex and she was... a void. He had to make her meaningless. So he had forgotten the gentleness of her embrace. He had lied to himself about the warmth of her spirit and the softness of her arms. He had unlearned her goodness and convinced himself it wasn't ever real, and he had _believed_ everything that he concocted about her... "What is wrong with me?"

"You didn't get the love you deserved, but you still have time to learn how to love yourself. You can still change." Grace kissed his hair and began rocking him on the floor. “Simon, I can’t be the person who saves you. You know that, right? I have myself to look out for. I have to make sure that I live my life with the least amount of hurt. But, you really need to get some help. It can’t be me, but... something has to happen.”

“I’m going to get help, so I don’t hurt you again” he said extremely softly. She nodded. It wasn’t the time to point out to him that he shouldn’t be hurting anybody, but she knew that if he got help, help would teach him that. After a while, he got up and started to leave, more calmly than before. She stood up, stretched and sputtered air out of her mouth. They stared at each other a while. What on Earth does one say after something like... whatever that had just been? She didn’t even know if he meant what he said. She knew that she did, but time would only tell if Simon actually listened to her. His publicist, lawyer and therapist collected him, making it easier to transition away from the awkwardness of having held on to Grace for dear life while he cried about things HE did to HER. 

They left the building, dragging him away as Grace watched, feeling at least on her end, she had done everything that she could to clear the air. Then, he just vanished. Nobody saw or heard from him for a while...


	23. Journey to Maternity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter since The Apex is Falling, and is actually longer so to all appropriate - either I’m sorry or you’re welcome for the length of this one. Trigger Warnings: I don’t honestly know at this point in the story. I feel like we simply revisit old trauma of the characters that were previously outlined. So, any triggers concerning Simon or Hazel of this AU may be ones to watch out for in this installment. Also, violence towards the end.

The legal team behind Simon was very adamant about the contents of that recording never seeing the light of day. Grace was fine with it, because she hadn’t wanted him to be seen that way either, falling apart in her arms and whatnot, but she did want to keep it as proof that Simon’s stories contradicted the truth. She needed it, even. Working on seeing Hazel more was becoming a struggle the more that her name kept coming up associated with Simon’s, so she wanted to be certain to detach herself from that, altogether, if she could. 

Her parents seemed interested in seeing what he had to say. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to discuss most of that with them, yet. They just... weren’t there yet. Grace had yet to apologize to her mother for attacking her, and didn’t think that she would be ready any time soon, as in her mind, her mom earned what she read she did to her. Nearly 5 years later and she never recalled, only read about it in her file when trying to digest it with her therapist. Until she was ready to face it, she couldn’t say that she was ready to face her mother... but her mother seemed ready to face her, and she didn’t seem as standoffish as she had been the previous time that they had been face to face. Grace didn’t know if she could say that the woman was trying, necessarily, but she seemed to be at least thinking about things.

She wanted to know _how_ Grace was doing.Not _what_ she was doing. That, in and of itself, was a huge difference in their previous relationship. Whenever her parents visited New York, they took her to a Broadway show, went to museums, the opera - things that they enjoyed and wanted to share with her, and some things that she enjoyed that they hadn’t previously made time for. Her father was especially overbearing, she figured from the guilt of pushing her into Simon’s arms, now having learned of all of the things that Simon had put her through. She had halfway expected him to make excuses for Simon, to somehow blame her for not being tamed by him or whatever. But, he seemed to be working on not only that mode of thinking, but things with his wife as well. Grace was shook by how... affectionate they seemed these days. 

Long story short(er), she told them about Hazel and how much she had been working to be able to see her. She told them about Simon even sitting down with the DCFS to clarify a character reference for her and how they said that they would keep this in mind, but the home that Hazel was currently at was growing weary of the girl’s “situation” and she was truly afraid that if Hazel was moved again, there would be no way that she would ever find her again, and even if she did... what if the next family wasn’t as understanding or cooperative? What if the next judge didn’t grant her the same sort of access after the caregiver changed?

“Why don’t YOU just adopt her, Honey?” Her father asked. 

“Honey? And... WHAT?” Of course, Grace was way ahead of him. That was her ultimate goal, day by day, she was getting closer to being brave enough to go through with it. But, her parents hadn’t thought her capable of responsibilities since she was a kid. “Dad... You can’t be serious? You think that I could actually take in a child?”

“You love her, you work hard to make sure she has all the support you can give her, you give her things and look out for her. I think you’re more capable than what she’s had so far,” he said. Her mother was quiet, so she knew that she didn’t agree. But, for argument’s sake, she wanted to hear in what way.

“What do you think, Mom?”

Her mother sighed and said, “I think that your father wanted you to start a family by now and he’s being a little bit presumptuous to think that you want that for yourself.” She looked at her husband to add, “She’s been through enough. Raising a child isn’t easy. Even with help... Even... with the help doing most of the work...” She looked guilty when she said that. “It’s a huge responsibility. Grace is a young career woman, moments away from a degree from Julliard, living out her dreams as a musician and dancer in the big city. To just stop that and become a mother sounds far-fetched and idealistic. Just loving a child doesn’t make for a good mother.” Then, looking right at Grace, she finally admitted, “You didn’t... have any... role model in this field...”

“There’s books for that,” Grace said, repeating something Hazel once told her. But, it put her mind and heart at ease to finally hear SOME type of accountability from her mom, even that small step. 

“Are you saying that you WANT to adopt this girl, Grace?” Her mother asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m saying that... I want her to have the stable home life that she deserves.” She laughed and said, “But, I’ve actually already looked into trying to adopt her and it hasn’t gone right.”

Mr. Monroe gave his gasping wife a smug grin. “You’ve... already tried, and you let us have an entire debate about the matter?” Her mother confirmed, mildly insulted.

“Yeah. I wanted to see what you’d say... what you think about my ability to be able to do it. You two would probably know best. I mean... You did _some_ parenting, despite things I’ve said in the past. I never wanted for anything. I may have needed a few less tangible things, but that’s fine, because so far, where I felt like I lacked in getting, I feel like I’m able to fulfill with Hazel. We’re so good for each other.”

Mrs. Monroe growled, “Then, what’s the problem? Surely the state of California doesn’t think you’re unfit?”

“I think that they do, Mom. And... I can see why...”

“Nonsense. We’ll take care of this,” Mr. Monroe said.

Grace laughed and shook her head, “You two always think that puffing your chests and throwing money at things will somehow fix them.”

“It does,” they both said, in unison. One of the RARE occasions that those two saw eye to eye. Grace shrugged her shoulders. If her parents thought that they could somehow help her, she wasn’t going to turn them down. _But, she wasn’t going to get her hopes up, either._

.

Mrs. Monroe’s team was in full effect, partnering with Grace’s representation to fully utilize Grace’s current public opinion, recent events, her recovery record, and maintained health and wellness to campaign for her as a fit adoptive parent. No information was put out about Hazel during that time, as to be sure not to violate any of her privacy, but people knew from the times she had spoken of her exactly what child she meant and Hazel’s current caretakers even spoke in favor of Grace.

People were sending emails and adding departments to “at” for her journey to motherhood. Her parents were putting a lot of money into getting her an approved space that would check all of the boxes better than her current college girl place or even the properties that she generally borrowed from them to host her visits with Hazel. She and Hazel would most likely be traveling because of Grace’s career as an entertainer, and the Monroe’s seemed to be trying to fill in some of the blanks they realized they caused in Grace’s development the only way that they knew how. So, they were granting her properties for the traveling that she would have to do and making certain that every space Hazel would occupy exceeded the legal requirements. 

Within 6 months of getting her parents into the groove, something that she had been trying to finesse for the past few years was settled! Grace didn’t often like to take a look at her financial privilege, but in this particular case, she was extremely grateful that her parents were wealthy and that she now had someone for whom she could pass some of that down to.

The. Very. Day. that she was able to finalize her paperwork, her mother had ordered a “maternity shoot,” for them. There were huge announcements of the date and a big name photographer to drop the images, now that she could publicize whatever photos of Hazel that she wanted. Grace wasn’t 100% sold on this, but she knew how her mom was and after all of her help, felt a ping of obligation for this ONE thing... Mrs. Monroe would NOT be involved in her parenting decisions and she clarified that each chance that she could over those months of work.

The maternity photos were similar to how a pregnant woman might pose, cradling her own womb, but each one of that type was her embracing Hazel to herself, then there were simply several gorgeous shots of them together and some with Hazel’s “GlamMother.” The woman and Hazel had settled on it when the former refused to accept anything with the preface of “Grand,” and Hazel didn’t like the options such as “Matriarch” or “Forerunner.” Those sounded too formal to Hazel like, “The villain in one of those movies where society has to like pay for air and the hero has to topple the evil queen hoarding it to enslave mankind. Oooh, or... like something you’d call the Highest Queen in the Book of Esmoroth!” Grace cringed at the semi familiar word, but wasn’t positive why at that moment and didn’t take note of it either.

For now, Grace reminded her mom, “It’s meant to be an honor, not an insult, like a Grand Chancellor, or in your case, The Grand High Witch,” she joked and smiled cheerfully, very pleased with herself for it. 

Her mother narrowed her eyes. Grace loved her new ability not to shiver at the woman’s little glares and her mother seemed far more fond of a Grace that didn’t cower before her (as long as she cooperated). “Cheeky little...” she’d mumble with the slightest hint of a grin. It wasn’t the healthiest arrangement, necessarily, but considering their past, it was healthier than Grace thought that they would ever get, and she couldn’t help but feel like Hazel’s presence and the process of getting her there helped to make she and her mom closer... or whatever this was that they were now.

The next generation of House Monroe, Hazel Doe Monroe... Hazel had wanted to keep Doe as her middle name. “You know, you don’t have to change your last name if it’s something that you’d like to hold on to, Hazel.”

“I know. You’re very nice about our rules. I just like it because I have beautiful doe eyes and it seems fitting to keep. I’m DEFINITELY a Monroe. Look at me there. I am serving Blue Ivy Carter vibes...” Grace smiled and squeezed her... daughter close. _Daughter._ That was so weird to her. She had considered Hazel a friend, a little sister type, surely, but somewhere along the way, she found that she couldn’t let that kid stay in the system, being bounced around, never knowing a real home or lasting love. So... now, she had a whole ass daughter. 

_An heiress,_ her mother would remind them both. Grace had mixed emotions about that one. Anybody you selected could be an heiress, if you intended to pass something down. She couldn’t tell if her mother was excluding Hazel from the family by using that placeholder, or if she was simply so proud to be a “matriarch” that she was being overly fancy. Knowing her mom, it could very well be the latter. She would wait until Hazel seemed to feel something about it. Right now, all the kid had was excitement and culture shock. She had waited her entire life to be in a family and as far as she was concerned, her family was the greatest one in the world!

There were a few critics of Grace’s “Journey to Maternity,” claiming that it was such a publicity stunt and that she was exploiting this child and using this adoption “for clout.” She... didn’t even know how that was a feasible conclusion, but her only announcement on the matter was, “I have been trying to build a family with Hazel, specifically, for several years now. Hazel never had a mother and now she does. She didn’t get maternity photos and birth announcements. She didn’t get a lot of things that babies and kids get by her age, and I want to make sure that she gets everything that I can give her and more. Our relationship is just as valid as any in which birth was given, because we needed each other and now we have each other and I’m going to love MY DAUGHTER the way that any loving mother would. Peace and many blessings to everyone out there. Please, use the energy that you have to attack me as a new mom figuring out the best ways to show my child that she matters, to go love on your own families. Our world needs more of that and less of this. This space is sacred, as a dedication to my daughter.”

While she used to be stressed out about how she was perceived on her platform, she now had a better handle on when to pay attention, when to ignore, when to block, when to engage, and she trusted her team and regularly spoke with her therapist and workers for Hazel, as well, about navigating these things. After the initial announcement, she and Hazel decided as a family that they didn’t need to do anything else so big, but they would post whenever they wanted to, since before, there were so many limits. 

Mostly, they liked doing mother-daughter choreography and sometimes, Hazel posted funny things, because she was truly a hilarious girl, at 9, nearing 10. Grace spent all of her time invested in being what Hazel needed and Hazel, as much as she loved Grace and loved having a new mom took some major adjustment getting used to having one. Sometimes, she feared that it would end and Grace, like everyone else might give up on her and “give her back.” 

Sometimes, she was so petrified about it, she turned into her turtle persona without any particular prompt. Those were hard nights/days. Grace would have to collect her turtle and care for her and coax her back into comfort so that she could become Hazel again. The doctor discussed some potential medication options, but because Hazel was not a danger to herself or anyone else, Grace denounced that idea at this time. When Hazel was back, she would simply reinforce that she loved Hazel, but in the moments where it was too scary or hard for Hazel to feel like herself, she’d love her turtle, too. Little by little, it seemed to be at least comforting enough where Hazel could sleep most nights without night terrors, though sometimes whenever Grace would check in (as she did, she realized probably an unreasonable number of times), Hazel would be curled up as she slept - in her shell - they called it. So, she wasn’t sure if she was making the best decisions yet.

But, Grace felt remarkably capable... silently thanking Simon for putting her through some of the most volatile emotional spikes not even realizing the type of resolve he was building for her to be able to endure loving a child who was just too scared right now to believe it was possible...

.

Simon was able to complete his Master’s degree on time, with Amelia admitting that she didn’t believe at all that he purposefully harmed her, but that he made a critical error while mentally distracted. If he wanted to work on his NEXT degree, he would have to do a lot that he was uncertain that he could handle at the moment. He thought of trying to start his own business, but his reputation was not stellar, so he held back until he could get a better grip on his pitches. His nights were generally forcing himself to continue routines that felt empty now that Grace had seemingly forgiven him and moved on. 

His days were just as structured, with his only deviance being that he had numerous projects he was still working on at the tech company he worked at. He was one of the top employees and had been there a while, so they knew a little bit about his personal issues, but he was an asset to the company, so, so far, so good on not being canned over the past year’s scandals... not many people realized that he was affiliated with his job, thank goodness, or he was certain some of those rabid SJWs would have doxxed him by now. His book sales spiked, but his trilogy deal had fallen through after only the first book had been published, and nobody was yet picking up any of his other works, so he leaned hard into his technological engineering.

Whenever he was at his day job, working on some software edits, someone mentioned, “Aye, Si - your prototype is reproducing now?” To which, he glanced up from his computer screen in confusion and saw Grace on his associate’s. They called Grace his prototype, because he’d often use an avatar or model or figure of someone closely resembling her and he got irritated whenever they would call his prototypes, his “ex.” Somehow, it didn’t bother him as much for them to call Grace his prototype. It bothered him, but not as much as the suggestion that everything he created was an effigy to her... whether or not that was the case (or whether or not it was unintentional/reflexive half of the time). “She’s got a kid now. Showed up in my entertainment news.”

Simon got up and came over, read Grace’s statement, scrolled through these photos of her and this beautiful kid that... looked honestly like she could be theirs, now that he was seeing her entire face clearly. He took a deep breath, with furrowed eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders, “So, they gave her the kid, finally. Good for her,” he said and returned to his desk, shaking and turning red. His coworkers all stared at him, expecting more. He sent a very quick email to his therapist and tried to ignore the wandering eyes. He also tried not to give them what he knew that they wanted to see... him lose his shit over Grace in real time. He couldn’t let this take over his professional life as well. It had cost him enough last semester and made him have to put his academic goals on hold.

Eventually, though, he had to cut the day short. Fortunately, his therapist could squeeze him in. He signed out of everything, images of Grace on his desk that he now hid away, for when he would next need them/could stand them (it was up and down for him, so he just kept them near now) and put them away at times like right now. Times whenever, for no reason whatsoever, seeing her upset him again. As he got onto the elevator, he heard one of them say, “I’m telling you, he’s gonna snap.” Sounded like they were making whispered bets on the matter.

.

His mind was filled with Hazel’s smile, the way Grace glowed with her in her arms, how they looked at each other with love and admiration, how EVEN Mama Monroe seemed enamored... while, he knew could just be one of her acts, but she genuinely seemed fond of her new family dynamic in those photos! “What is the point of me paying you when you are not fixing my brain?” Simon asked in frustration, glaring at his therapist, almost violently. 

“That’s not what we do here, Simon. You know that. Fixing your brain would be something that a neurologist does and you saw a neurologist a few months ago. What they suggested was for you to continue therapy.” The man was always alarmingly calm. He knew that Simon had violent outbursts in his record, but he also knew that Simon wanted to try to be pragmatic. Simon was a scientist. He wanted to handle things maturely and intelligently. His violent outbursts were generally a result of him feeling attacked. If the therapist kept things level and sensible, he didn’t expect more than a few bouts of yelling and flailing arms from Simon, on a good day.

“I know that therapy is supposed to help me to feel the way that I’m supposed to feel about Grace again, and it absolutely is not doing that for me!” He was huffing. The therapist remained calm. Simon noted that and tried to join him. He folded his arms, “I’m still thinking things about her that make no sense. Like today, I found out that she finally got approved to adopt that girl... And... it’s a really cute girl. She looks... like she could’ve been ours. She’s really precious and brown and beautiful with this long, thick head of blond hair. Proper blond hair, and they gave her an elvish hairstyle for the shoot... And my immediate thought was to wonder if Grace did this on purpose, to spite me? This blond kid that looks like us? The fantasy core hairdo? Is Grace manipulating me from across the country, on the Internet for every fan to see?” He scoffed. “Why? Why, would I think that?” 

“You tell me, Simon.”

“I DON’T KNOW!” Simon was red in the face and breathing too hard.

The therapist shifted slightly and redirected the conversation. “Okay, well, let’s think about it all, and talk through it. Maybe I can help you find out what your true feelings are, then we can unpack them together.” Simon _hated_ that word. The sorting through baggage, taking a long hard look at things, figuring out where they went. He HATED it. “Why do you think Grace might want to use a child in order to spite you?”

“Wow, well, who’d have thought that two minutes ago when I said that I didn’t know, that you paraphrasing it would give me the solution?” Simon’s sarcastic question and animated baffled face were calms before a storm. The storm had to be appeased.

“I’m asking you to think about why Grace would ever do that to a child, instead of wondering why she would be manipulating you? She would be using that child, of your thoughts are right, and maybe thinking through why she would do such a thing could help you get closer to why you rationalized this accusation against her. Do you feel like she’s trying to fill a hole she believes you caused and replacing the child you could have had together?” Simon froze for a moment to consider this, then scoffed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. _That wasn’t it._ ”You said the child looks like she could be yours. Maybe Grace was drawn to her for that reason. Maybe it had nothing to do with spite at all and everything to do with love or even simply familiarity. Grace may have chosen a child that reminded her of her first friend, her first love. Maybe... the child doesn’t even actually look like she could be yours, but you’re projecting yourself into Grace’s family because you miss being a part of it..”

“No!” Simon fussed and pulled out his phone to pull up the image of Hazel. He showed it to the doctor.

“Well, you were right about a couple of things. She is a very beautiful child and she is blond. Besides that, Simon, I don’t see any resemblance, and lots of people are blond, some of them are even... Black or Biracial... I’m not sure of this child’s exact makeup, but she’s blond. Why did that upset you so much, if it’s not because you were thinking about maybe what you and Grace missed out on when she gave up the child you might have had.”

“Stop right there. Yes, I think about what _might have_ become of that. Grace once did this dedication thing that was like mapping out when she might have been due and how old they might have been, and stuff. She was going through her own things and I found it interesting, but I know a little about biology. The time that she went in... she was about 2 to 3 months... that’s not a baby. That’s not a kid. That’s something an inch long or maybe a small bit bigger. A collective of tissue...” He shook his head. “I’m not lamenting over a quarter sized bundle of genes!” He shuffled his legs around. “I mean... She said that she would’ve called them Ivory. That’s a pretty name, I think. It’s unisex and elegant... Then she had all this ivory themed jewelry and color scheme for her kid’s coronation or whatever the fuck. It did sort of feel insulting, but I think she just fucking likes ivory, I don’t know! She was gonna name a kid that. She just likes it.” He frowned and looked towards the window.

“Did you feel like she thought about that whenever she made the party for her new child?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t been cool in so long, I don’t know her like I used to. I used to know her like... she was an art form that I was the master of, a science that I was most prolific in. I... don’t even know if she hasn’t become a completely different person. One thing that’s obvious. She still craves love and adoration and she’ll have it to her heart’s content now that she has a kid. That girl is going to give her all the praise and worship she’s been craving since we were kids. All that I couldn’t give her... I don’t even know why work so hard to be better...” He sighed.

“Simon, if you’re only working on yourself in order to impress Grace, then that could be the reason that you aren’t feeling any results. Grace can’t be the compass for which you try to find your life’s direction.”

“But something has to motivate me. I don’t care about much else. Not like it matters at this point, now.”

“Why? Because Grace has a child now?”

“She has everything that she needs from someone else. That kid beat me to it. I didn’t get better quick enough... I just...”

“Simon, I think we’ve finally arrived at today’s problem. Do you see it?” Simon frowned harder, tightening his mouth shut.”Would you like for me to tell you what it seems like to me?” Simon furrowed his eyebrows deeper. “I’ll go, and if I’m wrong, I know you’ll chime in, as you do enjoy proving others wrong...” Simon smirked a little. “It isn’t that you feel like Grace has replaced an unborn, never fully formed child that the two of you might have had. You feel as though Grace has replaced _you_.” Simon’s breath sped up and he blew out of puckered lips with puffed cheeks. “Simon. Surely, you must realize that your relationship with Grace is not the same as what her relationship with her child is.”

“Of course!” He stood up and leaned forward on the desk, “But, I’m sure YOU know that my relationship with Grace was _never_ reasonable and that’s why I’m here!”

“Simon, please sit down.” 

Simon paced, instead, complaining. “I don’t _have_ relationships with people. I cling to people, then they leave me. I clung to Grace for so long and I didn’t give her the chance to leave. I was scared, like a little boy being given a responsibility way too great. I messed up! I can’t FIX it! I’m supposed to be able to fix anything! I fix the bugs in multi million dollar making computer systems. I fix equipment that helps to save thousands of lives! I fix software, and robotics, and 90% of my coworkers’ interpersonal issues by being practical and telling them to dump people, but I can’t fix this! I can’t fix ME. I’m the problem!!!” He slammed his fist on the desk. “All I had to do was trust her. We might still be together. She might not have ever been in that place to meet this girl whose _stolen_ her heart.”

“Simon, please consider the way you’re speaking about an innocent child who was in need of a home.”

“Yeah. It’s fucked up, just like the rest of me.” Simon covered his mouth and nose with his cupped hands. sighed and suddenly stopped moving anxiously. “You know what? I’m not at MIT at the moment. I don’t have any reason to keep this up.” This was indicated by him waving both hands back and forth between himself and the therapist.

“To get better, Simon. We’ve made several breakthroughs together. All of the things that you were holding inside... Those aren’t resolved overnight. Remember whenever we discussed your first sexual experience?” Simon sat down, his face wanting to believe Dr. Richard could do something about his growing despair. “You found out that you _did_ feel something for Grace, but you blocked it out, denied yourself, made the act a challenge in which you won if you could separate yourself from your feelings... That’s your MO, Simon. You fear feelings that you think won’t be reciprocated and you punish those who didn’t reciprocate them before they have a chance not to.”

“But, I only did it to Grace...” Simon said. “My mom didn’t reciprocate and I moved on. My dad didn’t. I moved on. Grace... did... and I punished her anyway, for the CHANCE that she might not. And I did it to everyone I’ve met since, even though I don’t even let them get close to me, because I can;t even stand the thought of somebody getting that close to me again... The thought of the loss, when they finally see me and realize that I’m... This. Just... Tell me what to do to fix that in myself?”

“We’re _doing_ it, Simon. It will take time. You made a difficult to breach barrier on purpose and it’s even hard for you to let it down. Until you’re ready to try, it will take us chipping away at it with these sessions.”

“I don’t want to do that, Dr. Richard. Thank you for your time.”

“Do you remember when you decided to see me again? Our first session went poorly. You at some point referred to it as an interview. You thought that I asked you questions and you gave the answers that made you look the best.”

“I decided to see you again because I thought I was going to be going to prison or be kicked out of my very prestigious college. But, I looked at the face of a little girl today and I felt my future die in her smile...”

“How do you know that a better you can’t mean better for Grace AND this girl?”

“I was with Grace for years and I ruined her, if you think I’m gonna go anywhere near her kid, near any kid, you’re the one that needs a doctor.” Simon got up. “Time’s up. Thank you for seeing me today. Wish me luck.”

“Simon. Please don’t miss your scheduled appointment.”

“Cancel it. Cancel them all.”

“Simon.”

“I won’t need them. I’m... I’m the best I’m going to get. I see that now, but I appreciate what you were trying to do for me.” He left the office, glanced at MIT’s campus as he headed for his apartment. His cell phone buzzed and he looked at it. It was from work. A list of things for tomorrow, when he got back in... He threw the phone into a trash bin without even so much as trying to aim. He fought the urge to turn to grab it. _You’ve worked really hard Simon. You can be better. She told you to get help. To be better... **Yeah... But, not for her. She doesn’t need you. Nobody does. They never did.** You did it for yourself. You made something of the mess that they gave you. You can still change... _

“Maybe. But, probably not for the better.” _Face it... My peak was when I was an absolute piece of garbage. My best is to be horrible. What kind of an existence is that? No saviors. No Grace. Just me, being violent and sinister? I’m the Void. I would only take everything from them. I need to be voided out..._

.

Grace had not anticipated how being the 24/7 guardian of this child was going to be so drastically different than before. She tried to mentally prepare for that obvious reality, but nothing really prepared you for some of this stuff. It was challenging, to say the least. Grace’s life was in New York. It felt unkind to uproot Hazel and just bring her there, but she knew that it would be much more difficult to try to start rebuilding an entire life in California to keep Hazel in familiar settings. 

Hazel hadn’t had a home-home, but San Francisco was as home as she had, and wasn’t far from where Grace grew up. Still… Grace had been in New York for years for school, fell in love with the place, had friends and work and hobbies there. Hazel could fall in love with it too and if she couldn’t, then they could revisit that topic. But, they were going to begin by settling in New York. 

“We’ll at least visit GlamMother and Grandest Father, right?” Hazel wondered.

“Did… Did my dad tell you to call him that? Because I’ve got to draw the line…”

“No, it just sounded best with GlamMother. I like them. They speak really fancy and have a lot of nice stuff. I feel bad that we buried them in the bush that time.” Grace laughed and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as they headed home. She didn’t want to visit TOO much, but her parents were willing to foot the bill to see their granddaughter. 

Grace was a little bit scared of them being around her too much. She worried that if Hazel felt scared or nervous and reverted to “the turtle,” her parents would handle it in an unsavory way… and then she would be forced to wreck them. It was just easier to try to stay away when she could. But, she had to stay at least until Hazel’s last day of school, as to not mess up her transition. So, Hazel’s birthday was spent in Cali and whenever the school year ended, they were going to be in New York.

Things happened. Firstly, the weeks leading to the summer vacation, Simon had not been seen or heard from. Grace didn’t realize this at all (as she hadn’t been checking for him for months) and was focused on going back and forth during the process of adopting Hazel, staying in a Monroe property to finish the school year and trying to adjust to a life of single motherhood… she just… did not have the time or concern to check up on anything Simon related. So the fact that his workplace didn’t know where he was and tried to contact his family, since it was so not like him to not show up at all - that was backstory she got.

Secondly, Simon “resurfaced.” No, not in her life, not at all. But, he was on the internet a lot more. There had been several sightings of him and none of them were good. He would either be in an altercation with someone or a full on fight. Most of these sightings he appeared to be baiting people into fighting him. There began to be chatter that he’d spent a little time in jail! She only caught wind of that after the third, and most severe thing took place...

Thirdly, Simon had been reported missing for weeks whenever several of the media outlets began running a clip of a person that many believed was Simon - Grace had been tagged to it multiple times, but hadn’t clicked on it, as it tended to have some type of generic title like, “Is that you, Simon Laurent?” or something that she didn’t have time for. The people jumping into her comments while she tried new dairy free froyo to ask her what about Simon’s spiraling was enough Simon content for her at the moment.

What she did have time for?: “Simon Laurent left for dead after brawl…” 

She gasped and clicked on the video. It was definitely Simon. She knew his mannerisms. She knew his fight style. That was most definitely Simon kicking someone in the face right before someone else - a friend or something of the person hit him in the back and ribs with a board and he fell. She covered her mouth and through teary eyes saw him falling and being repeatedly hit, up until what very much looked like one of the fighters was stabbing him… Grace let out a scream, without realizing it. She began to try to search for more information, but the only thing that she could seem to find was that nobody knew his family or where he was or if he had been helped…

“Grace?” She heard Hazel call from the doorway. She looked up and the girl was worried, “You’re crying really loud…” Grace shook her head, unable to form words as she continued to search, until she FINALLY found a story that appeared to be paparazzi capturing photos of Simon being rushed into a Massachusetts ER and old faithfuls of the Apex casting a net for blood donations. She saw Hazel freeze and sit on the floor. _God, not now_ … Hazel was a turtle. Grace had frightened her. 

She tried to collect her without hyperventilating as she called information. If the Laurents were anything like her parents, that man still had the same phone number. If he was still anything like he used to be, he never got onto the internet and might not know where Simon was or what condition he was in.

Grace had Hazel in her lap, cradling her and rocking her to try to lull her out of her habit. “Mr. Laurent? Simon’s Dad?”

There was a long pause and then he said, “Yes, this is he… Have you found my son?”

“I know where he is. I saw on the Internet that he’s been seriously hurt and is in need of blood, but I don’t know how accurate that part is. I remember him saying that you two had the same type, some years ago. Even if not… Somebody should be there, I think… Do you have a way to get to Massachusetts?”

“No,” he said with a sniffle. 

“That’s okay. I can get to him quicker, because I’m in New York, and I can even take you to him, but… I have to tell you… This is Grace Monroe.” 

“You…”

“Mr. Laurent, right now, Simon needs either medical and divine intervention or potentially next of kin. I have a daughter and I can’t endanger her. Can we truce or whatever?”

“Yes. My son is all I have left.” She wasn’t going to argue with him. “I live in the same house if you remember where.”

“I remember. I’m going to send for you. I’ll have a car grab you and get you on a plane. My daughter and I will rush there now and meet you at the hospital, okay?” She groaned to get Hazel up and put her in the car. “We’re going to go on a trip, Hazel, okay? Whenever you come back out of your shell, I’ll be right here. I’m sorry that I scared you. I saw something really scary…”

“Is that man gonna be okay? The one that used to be your friend?” Hazel asked. Grace let out a sigh of relief that she had come out of it sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know, but if not, I think his dad should be with him. It’s a kinda long flight for him, so I don’t know if he’ll be okay. But, I’m going to go... just so that if something happens, he’s not alone. It’s scary when stuff happens and you’re all alone.”

“That’s sad. His dad shouldn’t have to see him be hurt.”

“No... but, that’s where he would want to be, near him, in case he can give him some comfort. Some help...” She told Simon that she couldn’t be the one to save him, and she meant that, but this was different. If something happened to Simon... and he was all alone... she just didn’t know how she would handle that in the future.


	24. The Waiting Room

Hazel had several things to keep her occupied in the waiting room. Grace usually kept a lot on hand, as she herself could get pretty restless at times, but right now as Hazel did everything from color with her Tuba stuffy to listening to music on headphones, Grace was online on her phone trying to ease the minds of Loyal Apex members and Simon sympathizers. **  
**

They lamented as there was no word about him other than the video that showed him being brutally attacked, the APB was out on the suspects and people wondered what would happen/if he would die.

She made an announcement, “In order to try to offer a small portion of comfort to all of the people who care about Simon Laurent, what I can say is that he is currently in surgery and that I’ve contacted his father. We don’t know anything else yet, but whenever his father is here, I’ll let him decide what things should to be communicated to Simon’s fans. Please keep rumors and negativity to a minimum during these uncertain times for him and his loved ones, and simply send whatever positive thoughts and vibes in his direction.” It ignited a lot for her to be the person who made that statement. But, there was nobody else to do it.

There were a lot of people who were SO RELIEVED that Grace was there for him and felt like that meant he was safe. 

There were some who were confused about why SHE of all people would be trusted enough to be in his private space at a time like this and they hoped she had grown and wasn’t using this to get her foot back in the door. 

There were some disappointed in her for being pulled back into Simon’s toxicity and “glorifying struggle love” by supporting him after everything he’s done, wondering what type of example this was to young girls who idolized her? 

There were a lot of encouraging messages though like, “I don’t know what you must be going through right now. Sending you good energy and hopes for Simon's situation,” and so on. She made sure to like and reblog all of the ones of that nature, and decided to at least pretend to ignore the other ones, no matter whose camp they came from. 

Many separate posts were also made to show support, some saying that nobody could possibly know what Grace is thinking at this moment, since everyone reacts differently to trauma, and because of that shouldn’t be quick to judge her for being near or with Simon in his time of need. She didn’t respond to those, simply because she didn’t want to seem like she was making it about her. It wasn’t. Right now, the only thing she could think about was Simon.

It took Simon’s dad about six hours to arrive. He looked exhausted, as scary as the last time she saw him but much older. She couldn’t believe it had only been a few years because his pale blond hair had whitened and he looked more wrinkly… and like… he couldn’t be that much older than her own dad.

He talked to someone at the counter, then they took him someplace else. Grace stayed where she was. If he came in and noticed her, fine, but she wasn’t going to press him. 

Eventually, he showed up and noticed her right away. He hadn’t expected to see a little brown, blond haired girl with her. He nervously approached and said, “They uh… got some blood from me. They did need some. He’s critical…” Hazel stopped playing and looked up at the new person. “Hello,” he said, politely. 

She stared at him, collecting her things and moved closer to Grace. Grace wrapped an arm around her and said, “This is Hazel.” She wasn’t going to make her speak to him, though. Grace's parents did that to her when she was little, but it wasn’t something that she practiced as a parent. Hazel wasn’t comfortable and making her speak wasn’t going to make her more comfortable or build on her trust in Grace as support.

He sat on the other side of Grace. “Is she…?” Grace and Hazel stared at him, awaiting his question. He leaned closer to Grace to whisper and she tensed up at his closeness. “Simon’s?” 

“WHAT?” Hazel called out. “GROSS!” 

Now Grace said, “Hazel… A little loud.”

Hazel lowered her voice and said, “Simon’s Dad, she is 22. I am 10. What do you think your son was doing 10 years ago?”

“He wouldn’t know,” Grace mumbled, then gasped and looked at him, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He looked sad. She didn't feel bad for him per se, but she didn't want to make matters worse at a time like this.

“I wouldn’t. Simon raised himself from the time he was 10, until 16, when he moved out of the house. I haven’t seen him since shortly after the last time I saw you…" he noticed Grace shiver at the mention of it, and considering the truce she requested before, he knew that it was probably a sore spot for her. He tried to think of anything that could possibly be said, but ultimately kept the subject on Simon. " I haven’t talked to him since his 18th birthday when I called to see if he wanted to have a vacation with me and his mom... He disconnected that phone line and never gave me another. Probably wouldn’t even want me here… I didn’t know that the two of you had… made up. Guess that makes sense. He was always crazy about you...”

“They didn’t make up. She’s just nice. And he wasn’t crazy about her. Just crazy.” Hazel said. Grace frowned, but only rubbed her arm in response. Hazel took a deep breath and rested her head on Grace to try to calm down. Grace tried to keep Simon talk to a minimum. It always infuriated Hazel that she couldn’t protect her against him. It didn't matter that she was too young or that they didn't know each other when Simon hurt Grace. She. Wanted. To. Protect.

“Well, your… Grace is much appreciated.” Hazel narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, and she didn't even KNOW Grace's history with this man. “I lost one child a long time ago.” Hazel’s look softened and she sat up. “I didn’t handle it well. I didn’t look after Simon the way I should’ve. I thought that he didn’t really understand enough to be as affected as he was… Really, I lost two children, and I’m here to see if I can get one of them back, before it’s too late for him too.” Hazel’s face was soft and she dropped her things to get up and hug Mr. Laurent, who cried. 

Grace didn’t want to be rude, but she gently separated them and pulled the 10 year old onto her lap. This man pulled a gun on her the last time she saw him. She wasn’t forgetting that shit, and she didn’t want him to, either. She certainly didn’t want her child bearing any of his emotional issues that HE caused himself. _He didn’t LOSE two children. He lost one child, fucking turned his back on the other, and I became the only person in that boy’s life. Parents really felt entitled to do whatever shit that they wanted then expect you to just move on and forgive their asses._ She couldn’t see Simon wanting this man here, either. But… that was the only family he had. Grace had felt that he deserved at least to potentially have a goodbye and give an apology to him. 

Paying for his travel and getting a temp family bnb wasn’t that much for her, considering that Simon honestly might not make it out of this. She and Hazel were along for the ride because they both knew that she wasn’t leaving her with a sitter or something and Hazel had definitely become curious about this infamous Simon (who she mostly learned about by sneaking onto the Internet) and wasn’t going to say so, but probably lowkey wouldn’t mind him dying. 

According to the Internet, he did some terrible things to her mom. She knew some of them, only the watered down and generic stuff that Grace told her in kid language. “We drifted apart, didn’t see eye to eye, hurt each other…” Those were not the kind of stuff she read that he really did to Grace. Hazel then wrote “We HATE Simon” on several of her possessions, and she was pretty firm in that stance. But… maybe this Simon’s dad dude wasn’t so bad, she was thinking.

Grace was thinking the opposite. Simon’s dad was just as responsible for what was up with Simon as Simon was, to her. Had Simon’s dad cared this much whenever Simon’s life wasn’t in jeopardy, maybe Simon would never BE here. Maybe Simon would have been the sweet boy that showed up for her recital after her telling him about it one night. The boy who learned the bus routes to be able to see her whenever he could. The one whose gray eyes she thought she was still looking into whenever she whimpered “I love you” in his arms… She angrily wiped away a tear and Hazel suggested, “Maybe we should go now, since he’s made it here.”

Grace realized that she was crying and strummed Hazel’s hair. “Yeah. I’m sure Mr. Laurent will call us if he needs something. We should get settled in for the night. I can bring your stuff to the bnb for you.” 

He shook his head, “It’s in the rental car.” She simply nodded as she started picking up Hazel’s things. “Grace… Thank you.” She had a lot of things she thought to say. 

_Don’t thank me. This was so fucking stupid of me. Thank you? No, fuck you. You’re the reason he had no self control! I was too young to be trying to fill in YOUR space, your HOLE in his life, in his very formation! How dare you thank me! Thank me for what? For trying to look after him when we were a month apart in age? For lending him all of my resources, my family and my HEART - only to have him never be able to appreciate any of it, because why would he? Who taught him to appreciate? Who taught him to love? Not the man that ditched him with a horribly inept mother who had already dropped the ball and a kid DIED in the process! He RAISED HIMSELF, from the time he was 10!!! You. Fucking. Degenerate!_

“No problem,” she said softly. “Simon was my best friend, once. Times like these, you try to forget the ugly parts and just do your best with what’s left.” More of her peacekeeper mumbo jumbo. It never felt so fake to say things like that before,

Once at the bnb, she and Hazel got washed up and dressed for the evening. Her parents came in about an hour afterwards, both irritated that she hadn’t told them sooner, but concerned about her and about Hazel. Hazel was asleep and Mr. Laurent hadn’t come to the bnb, so Grace headed back to the hospital. She saw him, staring straight ahead, looking wan and miserable. She took a deep breath and moved forward. “You never came to the place. I purposefully found a big spot to accommodate all of us. My parents are there with Hazel. You should go get washed up and eat, at least. Nothing you can do from this waiting room. I’ll sit here in case anything happens and call you when and if it does.”

“I don’t think I’m capable of driving at the moment. I’ll just stay.” 

Grace frowned and sat beside him. “Why didn’t you stay back then?” Hazel wasn’t here now, she could be real. “Simon needed you so much. You just ignored him. You left him with a woman that you had to have known hated him. Simon went all over the world with my family, and nobody ever called in to check on him or spoke with my parents for more than two minutes to approve that he could come along… but tonight… you can’t even get up to go take a piss? Now, when he doesn’t need you, you’re here and won’t leave? What about when he was 10, being bullied and beaten up and ran into a school auditorium to escape it for a few minutes? Why weren’t you willing to be there for him, then?” 

Tears were pouring down the man’s face. Aside from that, there was no reaction there. Simon cried in a similar way. That 'suffering in silence' that broke her heart every time. It wasn’t breaking her heart to see it from the older Laurent. “That’s not a rhetorical question. Where the fuck were you when Simon needed you, instead of me? Where were you when he was latching on to me and building this tether between us that even right now when I should be thinking about anything else, everything else, I’m here, for him, to see that he’s okay? Because I don’t know how to detach myself from everything we went through together, despite every fucking thing he’s done to me! Where the fuck were you?!?”

“I was broken. My family was broken. None of us were dealing with anything very well. I thought of all of us, Simon handled it the best. He cried a lot the first few days, but after that, he’d just read and write and do school and art stuff. It was like he had gotten over it. I didn’t want to put the grief back onto him. I tried to stay away from him, and it just became a bigger space over time and then, there was nothing between us.”

“Look. None of that explains to me why you weren’t the adult and didn't look after a kid who went through the most traumatic thing that he’s ever gone through. You were supposed to see him through it. Not… presume he’s okay because he wasn’t crying. You were supposed to make sure that he felt loved and supported. You were supposed to be willing to sacrifice for him. You didn’t and now you feel guilty. I get it.”

“You feel guilty too?”

“No. I don’t. I never did anything to hurt Simon, but he did everything to hurt me. I don’t just leave people because they did something, or because I’m feeling broken or because they seem fine. I’m there for people that I care about. I said I get it. I have empathy for you. I can’t relate. Because, I would never treat anyone the way you treated Simon, especially not my child!”

“The garage… That wasn’t you, was it? It was Simon. He was jealous and angry and finally had enough…”

“I’m not going to sit here and fill in any blanks for you. What I can say about that is that I had no idea what you were talking about when you pulled a gun on a 16 year old girl because of some photos that got knocked down.” Her eyes were filled with fury, though her face was tired. "Then you hug my daughter and speak to her like you see her value, when you would have threatened her life just as casually given the right circumstances for somebody like you. I've been thinking that if you were there for Simon he'd have been better. Maybe none of you are worth shit. People who hurt and threaten kids, blame them for their problems. Scar them for life…" She sighed, “Please, just go get some rest. It’s my shift, now. Someone he at least trusted at some point.” 

He got up and left. Probably couldn’t take more of her harsh words. She felt better having let them off of her chest though. Her father had wanted to hire some gangsters to beat him senseless. Whenever the man did get beaten up by a group of robbers, Grace had always wondered if her dad made good on that. She never asked, though the Laurents didn't live in the safest neighborhood, so it was feasible that it had been a coincidence. She brought him here to make sure that Simon wasn’t alone. That didn’t mean she had to hold all of these things back that she was finally brave enough to dare ask.

.

For several days, they took turns, waiting. Simon was in intensive care and non responsive. They were allowed to visit, one at a time and for short increments. Grace was at his bedside, furious with herself that she was there, but looking at him, seemingly resting peacefully, half of his head shaved for surgery, bruises, bandages… tattoos galore… She held his hand as she tried to see his tattoos, but the robe made it difficult. When her cycle was up, she wondered, “Hey… do you know what his tattoos are of?” to one of the staff.

“Are you Grace?” They asked. She figured for security/visiting purposes. 

“Yeah.”

“They’re umm… about you.”

“What do you mean? Like there’s an image of me?” 

“No. The images are weird, but the words are all about you. The front and back sides.”

She didn’t know what that meant, but her turn was up and Mr. Laurent was impatiently trying to get into the area. 

That’s who was with him whenever he woke up, in the private room that he had been moved to whenever he became more stable. Everyone was at the hospital at that time. Grace’s parents brought Hazel as soon as they found out that Simon was awake. He had to be seen by the doctor first and foremost, before anyone else was able to enter, so they were waiting. Grace was pacing outside of the door whenever the doctor came out and Simon and she locked eyes whenever this happened. He looked extremely surprised to see her again and she looked relieved? He was so confused. Why was she relieved? Why was she even here? In fact… why the fuck was his dad here? He looked over at him after the door shut and asked. “Who got you here?”

His father pointed towards the door and said, “Your friend, Grace. She’s outside waiting to hear how you are.”

Simon’s heart sped up and he had to lie back for a moment. “That doesn’t make any sense. Last time I saw Grace, she told me to fuck off and get some help. I didn’t get help and I almost got myself killed. What, is she here to make sure that I died?”

“She’s very concerned. She’s been here everyday. She was the first one here, and sometimes the last one to leave. She flew me out here and let me stay in one of those rental homes with her and her family. Her parents were here so that her daughter wouldn’t be stuck in a waiting room for hours and hours.”

“Grace and her family have been here?” Simon asked, disgusted, mostly with himself. He had betrayed all of them and their reasons for being there didn't matter. He needed someone… and Grace and her family were there.. He turned to look out of the window and sighed. “She made her kid come, just to see about me?”

“Hazel. She’s a really sweet girl. She drew me some cheer up cards…” Simon scoffed. “She reminds me of you.”

“Is that so?” Simon asked, yawning. Damn, that hurt. Doctor said he’d been stabbed 8 times, and that was after being hit with that board and kicked in the head, neck and ribs. 

“She’s artistic and likes robots... has a thing for turtles... that’s not like you, but also, whenever I saw her, I thought that maybe she was-”

“Why am I alive?” Simon groaned.

“Whenever you were attacked, some of your internet friends wanted to raise blood for you. Grace was the only one who knew your blood type, so she let them know and they’d go to blood centers to donate in your name… Plus, she got me here, knowing we have the same blood type, and well… She’s just been… She’s been a real lifesaver. Literally. I wouldn’t have even known where you were and I certainly couldn’t have got here on my own. She’s a really special young lady… and I… Simon… The doctor told me about your tattoos.” Simon looked at his father for the first time since he first woke up. “The things you did to her…” 

Simon grumbled as he pulled himself to sit up and look at his father, challengingly. “What about them, Dad?”

“Grace had some questions for me, some comments, some things to make me think and, I can’t help but feel like maybe if I had been better to you, a better father, that you wouldn’t have turned out to be…”

“To be what?” Simon asked, a slight smirk on his mouth, intense hatred in his eyes. “A monster? A criminal? An abuser? A heartless piece of shit?”

“To be in so much pain…” Mr. Laurent said. Simon’s smirk vanished. His father stood too close to his bed and looked too sad. Simon wasn’t sure what to do with that. “It was bad enough that you couldn’t work through what you did to Hope, but we didn’t even help you to work through how we were handling it. You needed us and we weren’t there for you. We let you fend for yourself and you got everything so wrong. We got everything wrong. We should have taken care of you. We should have kept loving you."

Simon flung his head back towards the window, a tear rolled onto his pillow. “Yeah, probably. But, it's done, now."

"We can always try again…" 

Simon furrowed his eyebrows and cut off whatever suggestions his father had to ask, "Is Grace planning to come talk to me? If I have to face her, I'd like to be prepared."

"I think she will. She's been asking about the tattoos…"

"Well, send her in so that I can get it over with and she can take her kid and go back to her good life."

"I'll tell her…" Whenever his father left Simon tried to fix his hair and wipe his eyes. He had no idea what he must look like, but he knew it was bad… 

Grace came into the room and smiled a small, cordial, obligatory smile. "Hey."

"He told me everything that you did. I'll pay you back for that." 

She frowned and came closer. "I'm not pressed for money, Simon. How are you feeling?"

"Like I should be dead, but SOMEBODY got in the way," he teased.

"If dying was what you wanted to do, you should've told me," she said and shrugged her shoulders. He let out a one syllable laugh. Grace leaned on the bed and touched his hand. His fingers were trembling. "I still would’ve done the same thing, though.”

“Why did you?” Simon asked, staring at her. 

She took a deep breath, “I don’t know.” They were silent for a moment. He stared out of the window, disappointed that it wasn’t a sign that she still cared… That it isn’t because she loves him… But, he knows that’s his fault. He had her love once and he destroyed that. “If I had to guess…” He turned to look at her again, hopeful. “I think it’s because no matter what you say and no matter what you did, I saw somebody that I thought I would know forever being harmed. I saw that nobody was doing anything useful to help. I didn’t know if you were going to make it and I wondered, if it were me… Would everybody just stand by and watch? Cry and complain over the Internet, while I died somewhere alone? Maybe that’s not terrifying for you, but dying alone sounds miserable to me, and I’m not the kind of person who could just want the worst for somebody I used to love, even though you hurt me.” 

“Thank you.” It wasn’t something that he said a lot. She didn’t even know what he was thanking her for. Being there? Answering truthfully? “Are you going to leave, now?” The thought of her leaving made tears well up in his eyes. She knew that they were real so she knew that he didn’t want her to leave, but also… W _asn’t her business here done? He didn’t die alone, and she had a life to get back to. This might do nothing for his fear of abandonment, though._

“I might be able to stay a little while longer. Let me just check on Hazel.”

“The doctor said that 3 people can come in at a time, if you want to bring her in?”

“Ohhh… Well… She’s 10 and knows how to use the Internet, so… she knows things about you… and me…”

“Yikes. Sounds like there’s justice on the menu for me today. Bring her in.”

He was ill and weak, so Grace figured that this was the best time for him to see Hazel, if ever. He wasn’t going to have one of his tantrums in his condition, and Hazel actually was quite interested in knowing him after having learned more about his childhood from pestering Mr. Laurent every minute that he was around. The man said he didn’t mind, He liked talking about his children and he hadn’t been around kids in a long time.

“Hazel, I know that you and Mr. Laurent are having a lot of fun, but do you wanna meet my friend, Simon?”

“You’re friends again?” Hazel asked. Grace stammered, but Hazel cut her off, “Nevermind. Yes. I have something for him.” She reached into her Tuba tote bag as she walked past Grace into the room. Simon offered a smile to her. It was kind and warm. Grace noted that he looked almost innocent. His gray eyes even twinkled a bit. “Mr. Laurent, I’m Hazel Monroe. I’m meeting you.” She extended her hand to shake his. Simon shook her hand, not missing the fact that she didn't say "nice to meet you" or something friendly, then she handed over what she had removed from her bag. It was a copy of the first Book of Esmoroth. “I’ve made notes everywhere that I thought you went wrong.” 

He opened the book and froze at the amount of various colored post its and notes in the margins. The book was filled with them and almost looked like a scrapbook with the bulkiness of it all. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“There was a lot wrong with it,” she quickly replied, matter of factly.

He laughed so hard that he hurt himself. Grace collected Hazel into a hug, worried, because Simon never laughed at criticism. Even her own would make him at least sulk. He was holding himself and trying to catch his breath.

Hazel added, “Overall, I enjoyed the book very much when I was 6… was your target audience 6 year olds?” He shook his head and wiped his eyes. “I didn’t think so. It’s still okay at my age, I guess. But, you’ll really have to step it up if you plan on being a good author someday.”

“I’ll keep these things in mind if they ever let me publish the other two.”

Hazel gasped and climbed onto his bed, “There’s two more?” She asked. “Does one center around the Idol Princess? Because, I know she’s supposed to be bad, but I actually really love her.” 

Simon looked nervous about that. “Uh… yeah… Book 2 is all about her… but she isn’t in Book 3.” 

Hazel gasped, “Did you kill her?” He nodded. She shook her head and climbed off of the bed. “You are a worse person than I thought.” She was ready to storm out of the room.

“I’m thinking of a rewrite!” Simon said, suddenly extremely interested in not disappointing her. She paused. “One where the Idol Princess has a power that no one could have expected inside of her. She rises from death and rebuilds herself as a True Queen…”

“Will she get to be a hero?”

Simon wiped his eye again, the tear provoked by a different emotion, this time. “She always was.”

“The Future King just didn’t know it. See…” Hazel turned around and returned to the bed, pointing at the book, “That’s in my notes. The Future King has a TERRIBLE habit of thinking things that just don’t make sense! I even wondered if the Idol Princess really WAS a bad person, or if that was just how he saw her, or just bad writing on YOUR part, because we couldn’t tell what was his mind or the narrator’s. Because she did a lot of nice things, but then again, a lot of those were for selfish reasons, so…”

“Hazel, why don’t you gather up your stuff, so we can let Simon get some rest?” Grace asked.

“She’s no bother. I’ve been unconscious long enough and I honestly never meet anybody passionate enough about my book for this type of dialogue.”

“It’s bothering me,” Grace admitted. 

Hazel said, “Sorry…”

“Not you, Hazel. Just… this story. I don’t think I like it.”

Hazel gasped and she covered her neck with both hands, her sleeves fell and Simon noticed that she was wearing his charm bracelet. He felt… a lot of pain. Not the injury kind, but... he thought that was likely in the trash and not only was it not, but the most important person in Grace’s world had it now. Hazel asked, “Are you the Idol Princess?”

“I think I am,” Grace said, glaring at Simon.

“I was different, then. When the story started, we were 12. By the time I finished it… we were 16… I edited it and probably made her a little more deviant than was fair."

Hazel smiled at Grace, "I _still_ liked her. Maybe I could see she was like you. Some problems, but really a good person." Grace smiled back. 

"Please… I won't talk about it. Can you stay? Just a little longer? I…" Simon looked at his fingernails, which were grown out a little longer than his manicurist generally trimmed them to. "I just don't want to be alone… and you're the only person I…" he wanted to say "know," but he really didn't know this Grace, if he even had ever known Grace at all. Grace lifted his chin with her hand to make him look at her. "You're the only person that's ever known me." He finally said, his gray eyes pleading for her not to leave him.

Hazel's eyes clouded over, "You've gotta stay, now. Look at him. Look at how sad this boy is…" Grace sighed. "I'll keep Mr. Laurent company until GlamMother and Grandest get back. You make him less sad. You can do it." Grace propped the door open, just out of paranoia. Hazel said Mr. Laurent was "her friend," but Grace still didn't like or trust him and her parents seemed to have wandered off or left.

"I can stay a little while longer," she firmly declared. Simon sighed with relief… and pain. He was in a lot of pain, but he managed a smile. "Soooo… the tattoos…" The smile was plastered on his face, but he turned red at the mention of this. "I heard there's an apology for me in there somewhere." 

He groaned to shift, despite her disapproval and attempts to stop him, and he managed to get the robe off of himself. There was something like a story book page there. She was shocked, to say the least. Tiny green script, interrupted here and there by an image - her hope chest, her silhouette, a crying brown eye, a shadowy monster… the words - apologies for everything he had ever done to hurt her, etched in ink on his skin..

"Official confession on my back, but I can't move enough to show you, or I'll definitely reinjure myself."

"Please don't!" She traced her finger over the words as she read them in full. Then, she didn't know WHAT to think. She just started crying. He reflexively reached for her and soon, they were both crying and holding on to each other. It was painful. He was physically in agony, but at the moment, holding Grace mattered more. He'd missed her and he was… just so sorry…

"I know that you'll probably never forgive me. I didn't even think we'd ever speak again. I just wanted to make sure that when I died, I'd have done that one good thing for you…"

“You’ve done plenty of good things Simon. And you haven’t died yet, so you’ve got time to do plenty more.”

“I’m gonna start by clearing your name and accepting my fate. You deserve that much, and that kid deserves for her mom to have a clean slate. She seems really cool. I can see why you fell in love with her.”

Grace didn’t know how to take what Simon was saying. He had said things before and didn’t mean them. Time could only tell if he was being serious or delirious from an extreme pain and highly medicated state. "I was interacting with your fans while you were down, and they might have a literal earth shattering crisis if you say this right now. There's no way they'll believe that I didn't come in here to manipulate and gaslight you into saying it…" He let go of her and frowned. "I'm only partially joking. Say whatever you think you need to. Far be it from me to stop my name from being cleared."

"The fact that I took it so far…" he shook his head, "I have to be just as passionate, if not more for clearing your name as I was in soiling it. I have to be a zealot."

"Wanna start with a hospital selfie?" She asked, pulling out her phone. He couldn't help but smile. It felt like… old times.. not exactly, because he was ripe with injury and riddled with guilt. But next to him was the prettiest girl in the world… and she seemed fine with being there. She tried taking a few then handed it to him because even injured, he probably could take a better one. The one that he liked the best was one where they both weren’t smiling too big, just settled, comfortable, if only for one moment, and seemingly content.

Simon borrowed her phone to both reactivate his social media sites, link everything possible, and to make an announcement of official apology, confession, and gratitude for Grace. With a very minimal update about his current condition. "That's a start, I guess." He said, logging out to give her back her phone. 

As Grace figured, there were a lot of people who were suspicious that she had somehow harmed him or coerced the words out of him, but as she slipped back into her life in New York with Hazel and out of Simon's life in recovery at his dad's place, she felt new air in her lungs and a new leaf being turned over. Speaking of, she took the one out of Hazel's hair.. "Hey! What's the deal?"

She snatched one from a bush outside of the hospital and replaced it. Putting the old one into her wallet. "Simon finally told everyone the truth about me. I know that I've said it didn't matter, and honestly, to a certain extent, it didn't… but I like my name being associated with what I've chosen to associate it with."

"Do you think it means that he's changed?" 

Grace tilted her head, "I think that it means that he's at least trying to."

"He didn't seem like that bad of a person. Just sad. Really, really sad. Maybe changing can make him a happier person."

"Maybe." That wasn't Grace's concern anymore, and she felt better than she could ever remember feeling with that certainty. _Simon and I have settled everything now. Nothing hangs over my head._


	25. Not Fine, But Better

Simon went to his father’s to recover. He was on an official break from school (hopefully, no longer than a year), and because of the nature of his injuries, was forced to move back home temporarily. His former employer was reluctant about giving him another position, though they worked out a few things for him to be involved in a freelance capacity, that way they were hiring him for certain projects, but not keeping him on their regular payroll. He planned to enroll in some online studies in the fall, and in the meantime, focused mainly on his ongoing project - the virtual reality social media.

A few things happened. Aside from regular visits to the doctor, because he was doing too much and reopened stitches, or for the extensive treatment that some of his more severe wounds were going to take, not to mention the healing of his spleen, which he was supposed to be taking extra care not to upset, but he was just so restless in bed and so anxious at the house, he kept getting up. The first night, he was content to lay down, primarily due to physical pain and exhaustion. 

The trauma doctor had suggested not getting on a plane, which meant that Mr. Laurent would have to stay at Simon’s and take care of him… which meant to Simon that his father would be in his personal space, contaminating it and his thoughts of it AND, he would know where he lived. He absolutely rejected that notion and said that he would hire someone for in-home health… Then he thought about the upcoming legal fees of his fights, potential jail time, even, the way that he abandoned his job, and he decided that maybe he would just go back to the Bay with his dad, against the doctor’s suggestion, because that seemed to be the least agonizing solution for him.

Of course, he re-injured himself, and spent all day in an ER, to receive word that his treatment would take longer and was ordered to bed rest for the spleen healing. He laid down in his old bed, as uncomfortable as it was and fell to sleep almost immediately. Outside of the hospital, where the medication and immediate professional help were, his nightmares became blatantly strong. He kept dreaming of laying in a pool of his own blood, on the cold ground, looking at a manhole, ready to die… and then the Void came out of it, about to swallow him whole and everything went black. He jumped up and immediately held himself. Maybe he needed to be strapped to the bed, as to not hurt more. He took a deep breath and reached for the cane that he would need to walk for a bit… and there was a white cat, resting on his old desk.

“Samantha?” He looked around the room, wondering if this was another dream, about his teenage years or something. But, he came closer and touched the cat and she pleasantly allowed it. It abandoned the cane to pick up the animal and nuzzled her. “Is it really you or did that jackass go find another white cat?” He snuggled her and limped out of the room to go get some water. He froze whenever he got into the kitchen and both of his parents were sitting at the little table. 

“Simon!” His mother said. She looked… different than he remembered. She looked younger, somehow, but extremely tired. She came over and tried to take Samantha from him, “Sorry. She must’ve snuck…” He jerked away and almost lost his footing. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Your dad said that you were here, so I stopped by and brought Samantha.”

He glared at her, “You’ve had Samantha this entire time?”

She chuckled and shrugged, “She’s MY cat, Simon. Whenever I was a little better, I stopped by and picked her up one day.”

“And you didn’t think to let me know? Leave a note? Nothing?? I thought she was dead!”

“You seem to be more upset about losing a cat than you’ve ever been about losing one of your family members,” she said. There she was. He knew that tone. He knew those eyes. She hadn’t changed. She was just better at seeming normal. 

“Don’t,” his father warned her.

Simon kept Samantha in his clutches as he went to pour himself some water. “When are you leaving?” 

The woman sat back down and looked at Mr. Laurent. “Your father thinks that you need us here. That us not being there for you is how you got to be this way.”

“What way is that, Faith?” he asked.

“Don’t,” his father warned the woman whose anger appeared to be rising, again.

“A little shit,” she hissed, despite the warning.

“Goddammit, Faith!” his father said. Simon snickered, wickedly. “Can’t you see that he’s just a hurt kid, acting out?” Now, Simon frowned. 

He wanted to storm over and punch his father in the face. He’d done so before, whenever he was a teenager and his father was drunk and complaining about his stupid memorial or whatever. But, Simon was in too much pain to even walk straight, much less, fight. He started angry crying and muttered, “Fuck both of you,” before taking Samantha back into his room, shutting the door (which hurt his side to do) and climbing back into bed with her nestled against himself. “I can’t believe that bitch took you away from me.” 

His mother was gone back to her mom’s by the time he got up again. He panicked whenever Samantha wasn’t there and rushed out of his room, clutching himself and neglecting the cane again to question his father about her whereabouts. Then, he heard her meow, excitedly, like she had something to tell him. Many things to tell him! He collected her and brought her back to his room. He kept her in there with him, scared that if she went outside, his mother might steal her again, even though his father assured him that it wouldn’t happen. “I won’t let her,” he had said. When the hell had he ever stopped her from doing anything?

He called “Dick for Brains” and asked if it was possible for him to use video conferencing to schedule an appointment. Dr. Richard was more than willing to accommodate this and seemed genuinely pleased that Simon had decided to try to resume therapy. 

However, in their first session back, Simon babbled on about this idea that he had for work. Of course, the therapist was going to let him speak about what he wanted to. It was a huge thing for Simon to even seek out help without being forced, and he was uncharacteristically excited about something. “A VR that serves as experimental experience based therapy. The premise is that you would be able to take these pick your adventure journeys, but each of the decisions would have either rewards or consequences and every choice that you make would take you down certain paths, giving you certain training to deal with your problems and conditioning your decision making, even one day could grant you diagnosis based upon your choices and solutions to said diagnosis…”

“So… you want to replace actual therapy with a virtual reality video game?”

“NO! You do the therapy to help you get better at the game. It’s like… it goes with it… unless you’re not so bad off that you NEED therapy, and then it’s just a tool in character education…”

“Okay. That sounds interesting. How is that coming along for you?”

“Ugh. It’s shit. You know… I don’t have the best gauge for reasonable decisions. So, I’m trying to program a lot of things, but I’m depending on various algorithms, and the things that I need to be more specific about, well - I’ve been reading a lot of psychology stuff to sort of help me out. Also, Grace had SO MANY resources available in her featured links on her website…” Simon’s eyes glossed over whenever he started talking about Grace.

“How is your relationship with Grace, Simon?”

He gave a sad smile and shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t have a relationship with Grace. She gave me another chance at life and I told everyone about all the messed up stuff I did to her. We haven’t spoken or seen each other in the weeks that I’ve been out of the hospital.”

“I read about that. It was really big of both of you to make the decisions that you made…”

“This isn’t about Grace,” Simon said. He began typing on one of his other laptops. “I’m not going to do that this time, Dr. Richard. I’m trying to think about treatment, but in a way that appeals to people more like me. I’m not one to sit in a room and talk about my feelings. You know how much I hate that. I AM one to sit in MY room, for hours, playing the same computer video game for weeks. As a kid, I used to create these figures. I have a ton of them at home. More recently, I’ve done robots…” Simon sounded all over the place, but Dr. Richard didn’t interrupt him. “In most games, there is a specific goal, and people tend to think… This isn’t anything that I’m used to, but the principle is fine. I want people to be able to feel like they are walking into their own worlds, and that their adventures are things that they can navigate to practice existing in the world. To get things out of their system that they should never do here, or to give them options that their minds might not automatically compose! You’re a therapist… do you think this sounds stupid or crazy or… just impossible?”

“It sounds like you’re enjoying your work and exploring more empathetic aspects of your talents. This project could be extremely good for you.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. But… do you think it would work? Do you think it would help somebody?”

“Are you making this to help other people or to get better at helping yourself?”

“DO YOU THINK IT WOULD DO EITHER?”

“There’s not enough information for me to know if it will help other people, but I think it’s already helping you and that’s the most important thing that you need to focus on. Getting better, yourself.” That was all that Simon needed to become completely obsessed with his project.

So, what happened was that he began to work on it a lot and neglect certain things he needed to do during his recovery. His father had to remind him and sometimes try to physically force him to let him check his healing, cleaning wounds, and getting ready to go have bloodwork done, etc. He was extremely irritable whenever Mr. Laurent would interrupt his work. Whenever it was more pressing medical concerns, Simon got a call from Grace.

“Hey,” she’d say casually. He’d smile immediately when he heard her voice, then frown, because he knew it meant that his dad had bothered her.

“Grace… I don’t know WHAT he’s said this time, but you need to stop doing this. How does he manage to even get to call you anyway?”

“Hazel gave him her phone number for emergencies. That is now the backup phone. Had to get her another. She’s too damn friendly, but I’ll never discourage her. She’s gotta be herself, you know. Listen. So… I’m told that you need to have an angiography. I looked it up and sounds like you gotta do this thing, and yet… Your dad can’t get you to stop playing video games?”

“No! That’s not what’s happening at all! I’m working and he just barges in! Doesn’t even knock. He’s obnoxious.”

“Orrr… you’re tired of being on somebody else’s timetable, and that’s understandable, but whenever I was in the institution, I was constantly on a formatted schedule that I had no control over. It was one of the downsides of getting myself in there. One of your downsides of starting fights that get you stabbed is doing whatever you’ve gotta do when you’ve gotta do it to get better. I’m gonna be pissed if your dad calls Hazel again because you’re acting like a child.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“Thank you. Have a good day.”

That was the last time he was cantankerous with his dad about appointments. He just had to suck it up and go when it was time. He had to listen, because he knew Mr. Laurent wouldn’t hesitate to bother Grace, as unfair as that was. Simon was furious that his dad did this. He called it harassment. Mr. Laurent didn’t seem to mind, even when Simon yelled aggressively about how Grace was always the person picking up his pieces when they were kids and he’s coming to a better understanding of how unfair that was to both of them, plus he has Samantha back and he is guilty about imposing on Grace. He sent her a message asking her to promise not to come running again for his father calling but agrees for her sake that if a real emergency comes up that she’s welcome to check in on him. She never replied, so he didn’t know if it was sent and he didn’t want to keep bothering her in her inbox. So, the months passed and he did what his father needed him to do to get better. Whenever he was able, he travelled back home, taking Samantha with him.

He was working full time and enrolled back in school part time, at a less prestigious college, but one that was comfortable for him, at this point. He still got up to MIT to see Professor Hughes and talk engineering with her. She was impressed by how well he seemed to be doing, but she would never tell him that. And he never missed an appointment with his therapist, or his physician. For the most part, he recovered. There was a little lasting damage that he would have to deal with, such as multiple surgeries to correct various problems connected to disrupting the body’s normal with multiple stab wounds, but it was manageable and he was… feeling okay. Whenever he wasn’t, he had better ways of coping than before, most of the time. Every now and then, he’d definitely lose it and break things and rage… but… it wasn’t as frequent as it used to be, so he at least felt good about that much.

Plus, he got to see Grace be SO happy with Hazel online and he wasn’t blocked from everything, so anytime anyone tried to give her trouble about him, he was able to step in and take whatever blows that they tried to throw her way. That was another thing… He had been diligently sticking to the truth about her, no matter what people asked or how guilty, ashamed, weak, cowardly, or whatever else these things made him feel. He went onto shows and conducted interviews and made videos to counter any negative feedback that Grace had ever done anything wrong. “Besides being a neglected kid with some issues related to that, Grace was a really good friend and I was a bad friend to her. Turned out my neglect issues were much deeper and I made her suffer for that, but she shouldn’t have to anymore.” 

.

Grace woke up with the sun most mornings. After she and Hazel returned to New York, it occurred to her that they had barely started living there before their little adventure in Mass. SO, they immediately made certain to try to start setting their routines and building their home style. Hazel’s room was the fanciest room she had ever had, excluding the chambers at the Monroe Estate. Grace let her have her own TV in her room, with a system that she had access to most of the apps, several games, and her favorite movies and shows. There was a housewarming plant that Grace’s friend had bought for Hazel whenever she moved in (and had to come over to look after whenever they were out), and that was in Hazel’s room, right by the window, for its sunshine. 

Hazel had gotten to the point where she was no longer sure if she wanted to hold on to having a leaf in her hair, so Grace bought her some cute hair accessories that looked like leaves - hair clips, headbands and stuff… and if Hazel ever wanted to stop, she had options, to sort of keep with her tradition that was sort of a large part of the identity she had carved out for herself. Now, though, she had a changing identity. 

She was Grace’s daughter and she didn’t know if keeping a leaf meant that she was holding on to a parent or parents that abandoned her when she had one who had fought to call her her own right in front of her. The last thing she wanted to do was possibly hurt Grace’s feelings, and she knew that Grace probably wouldn’t tell her if she did. She would just smile and make her feel good and meditate later or something. Hazel kept the hair leaf, for now. 

The room had bookshelves with Hazel’s favorite books, toys, and keepsakes, her jewelry rack and a very large quartz crystal sphere that Grace bought her “for good energy” whenever she was at her last home. It sat on a little sphere holder and Hazel generally set her singing Tuba right near it, whenever she wasn’t carrying it with her or sleeping with it. There was a framed photo of the Monroe trio - her, Grace and GlamMother, on her wall, as well as a mirror with her name on a plaque against its expensive wood. All of the furniture was well made and personalized in some way. 

For instance, her dresser had a cartoon stylized version of her smiling face on the sides and her name in lights across the top of the vanity. The colors of the room were hazel, ivory and green, and her headboard had a turtle magnificently carved into it. Grace got her the same type of products that she purchased herself. She still used the same natural beauty brands that she swore by as an influencer (and recently was reconnected with many of them) including a rebirth campaign for her own line of products. It really was like rebirth, but this time, she was living on her own conditions. She also was building for her daughter, as well, but in a different way than what her mother did. She would always ask Hazel her opinion of things, what she wanted to do, if she liked or approved of certain things that she wanted to do for her. The emblem on Grace’s products would be from a drawing that Hazel did of Grace as a tree, sitting in a lotus position, her hair as the leaves and Hazel falling from the tree into her outstretched arms. It was a pretty good drawing for a 10 year old, and Grace wanted it to stay just as it was for their emblem. 

Grace made meal prep for if Hazel had turtle days. Half the time, Grace wound up throwing the greens into a smoothie, because Hazel was fine for the most part. But, she would keep up this practice of being prepared for a long time. 

She generally saw Hazel off to school herself, instead of putting her into a car with a driver or getting her to learn public transportation like she often saw kids doing while she was out and about in the city for her first few years. She wanted Hazel to be as protected and seen as she could without being that over sheltering type of mom that she sometimes felt like she was probably being. But, Hazel liked the attention. It was nice to have somebody always having her back and ensuring her safety. It was nice always having someone waiting for you when you step out into the world, to guide you back home. 

They’d had most of the summer to settle in and the new school year was Hazel’s favorite EVER. She was finally going to be somewhere that she was getting herself to believe wouldn’t be temporary… she might actually make friends! She met a couple of people that were really cool the first week - Lucy and Lindsay. They knew each other from before, but Lindsay had recognized her from the internet and invited her to sit with them at lunch. Lucy wasn’t allowed to get onto the internet, but Hazel noticed that she had a Tuba watch and they admitted that they both still watched/loved The Mighty Tuba and Her Musical Friends. Lindsay made fun of both of them, but it was in that way where Hazel could tell that she still liked them and was gonna be their friend. Hazel LOVED it and asked if she could invite them over soon for a tea party.

Of course she could. Grace rarely told Hazel no. If it was doable, safe, and harmed nobody, she didn’t see any reason to refuse her things that she was interested in. Plus, Mrs. Monroe had bought a very expensive tea party set for the girl that Grace had to get assembled on the balcony, because she had no idea where to put it in her place… which meant that the balcony basically belonged to Hazel’s tea set. Getting that woman to understand that her space in New York is nothing like the space that they had in California was almost impossible. Her mother couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just seek out a bigger place. Like… just because I have my own money, I have to like… spend it like that?

But, Hazel began having her tea parties the second week of school. Mrs. Monroe wanted them to come to visit the weekend of the 23rd of August. “Mom. We’ve only been gone a couple of months. I told you that Hazel and I aren’t going to be coming back and forth like this.”

“I’m thinking if you catch a flight in the evening on Wednesday, Hazel won’t have to miss school that day. But, you definitely need to be here by Thursday evening’s dinner.” 

“Ugh. Mom.”

“Grace, this is important.”

She sighed. “Fine. But you aren’t seeing us again before Christmas break. Hazel has limited days off and I have things planned for my 23rd.”

“Yes, well… Julia or Gabriel, or whatever the hell this assistant’s name is will send you the list of things you need to pack.”

“Why would I need to pack things?”

“We’re going to take you to Belize, since you won’t be here for your birthday.”

“Ugh… I wish I could argue with a free trip to Belize… okay, fine. Tell ADRIENNE to send me the information.”

“Adrienne? That doesn’t sound right… oh, really? Huh. She says that is indeed her name. Well, she’s sending it. We’ll see you soon.”

Grace hung up and stretched, sputtered air through her lips and peeked out at the girls at their tea parties, with their hats and some of Grace’s good tea. “Hey, Haze… GlamMother wants to see us next week, so I’ll be packing our stuff and I’ll email the school to get your work for Thursday and Friday in advance so we can turn it in on Wednesday.”

“Yes, Mother,” Hazel said in her tea party voice. “Will we be seeing Mr. Laurent and his Sad Sorry Son Simon when we go to California?”

“I’m not planning on it. Just giving you a heads up.” The three girls raised their teacups to Grace and she smiled and went back inside to pack. Simon was back in Cambridge, as far as she knew. She had seen him around online, but never hovered, so she couldn’t be sure. But… that week was the week of his birthday. She wondered if her mother had remembered that information, or if her body was simply falling back on old habits of the season by wanting to do something around this time of year. It was a very random time to Grace for them to just want to go to Belize… though, usually Simon’s birthday was paired up with hers. The significance of his actual birth date would only matter to Grace, not her parents, as the things that they did typically occurred AFTER August 22nd. Grace shook her head and opened the email of things to pack, so that she could prepare early.

.

The Monroes had some guests, Grace could tell. Not a lot, so she wondered if this was like some politician’s immediate family or what, and she resigned herself to the thought that if for one little second her mom even tried to give her hell about taking a flight today, instead of last night (to come in all late in the night and throw off hers AND Hazel’s sleep schedule), she would take her ass right on to her old bedroom and wait for the call to go to Belize. She didn’t play that mess with her mom anymore. Hazel ran to the door and tiptoed a little to use the knocker. There was a doorbell, but something about that fancy old knocker always intrigued her.

A butler opened the door and tried to take Grace’s bags, but she struggled with him, knowing that she could do it herself. “If you won’t let him, let me,” she heard a familiar voice say. Simon. She froze. He was standing. Obviously in good enough health. He was smiling, but it became worried when she stared at him. He put his hands up and she noted that he was in some type of… weird coat draped over his arms, instead of wearing it, that she could see the top of his apology tattoos, and that his parents were at the table with hers.

Her mother got up and rushed over, “Don’t be silly! It’s his job.” She collected Hazel into a tight hug and Grace still stood there, in the open door as Hazel rushed to the table, hand in hand with her grandmother, to pass hugs around. “Surprise!” Mrs. Monroe cheered. “It’s Simon’s birthday dinner… and a therapy idea thing…”

“Therapy told you to surprise me by bringing me here, with these people, under the guise of a free trip to Belize?” Grace asked, very much not okay with this.

“No. We’re having a sit down, between all of us, as adults, to settle everything once and for all. There’s cake!” 

Hazel cheered, “Yayyy! Cake!”

Mrs. Monroe sighed and folded her arms, “My God, Grace, we really ARE going to Belize. Just sit down and enjoy dinner.” Grace pouted her way over to the seat next to Hazel. Simon returned to the one next to that one. His parents were across the table from them, and Mr. and Mrs. Monroe were on the opposite ends.

“This is messed up,” Grace muttered.

“All of us are messed up,” Mr. Monroe said. “It took a while for us to realize it. We spoke a few times when Simon was in the hospital, and we thought that eventually, both of you needed apologies from us and attempts for us to do better. Now, Grace… you had some things to say to Mr. Laurent the last time you were together…”

“I said it all. Nice to finally meet you, though,” she said to Mrs. Laurent, and her tone indicated that it wasn’t nice to meet her at all. Simon reached out and rubbed Grace on the back. She smiled a little at him, then looked confused and wondered why they were acting like nothing had ever happened. Then again, they had “gotten over” what did happen, and she guessed she was kinda touch starved, because it was nice to get physical comfort from somebody that wasn’t Hazel, for a change.

“Simon had many things to say to his parents before you arrived, too. Now that we’re all here, really… say whatever is on all of your minds. Simon… you’ve been sulking for two hours, but whenever Grace walked in, you immediately brightened up.” Simon blushed as Mr. Monroe made this extremely embarrassing announcement. Hazel cackled about it and ate a mouthful of potatoes. 

Simon shook his head, “I’m not sure what you mean by saying this, Mr. Monroe.”

“Just that we never really discussed the night that you came back into our lives, wanting to see Grace and apologize… You didn’t actually apologize until a while later and… we’re all curious about the journeys it took to get from where you were to…”

“No, Dad.” Grace shook her head. “No. Simon and I used to be best friends. I loved him. There was nobody in the world more important to me. When we broke, I broke. You don’t get to just have reflection on what led us all here, to possible health and contentment. Just… No. Where is the cake? I’m having some on the terrace. You want in, Si?” His eyes widened and he got up to follow her. The butler was bringing out the cake, and she took the whole tray. “Momma’s got you, Haze,” she said without breaking her stride. She went outside and Simon smiled as she set the cake down. “Cut my baby a piece of cake. I’ll get her dish.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Grace rolled her eyes at everybody in the room, grabbed Hazel’s desert plate and the bottle of wine from the table. She went back out and Simon was ready with Hazel’s slice. Whenever Grace gave it to her, she said, “I’ll be right out there if you need me.” Grace was… tired. She had been on a long flight, and to be faced with the Laurents AND her parents? And to have them acting like this was just okay to spring on someone? “They’re still messing up, but I guess at least they’re trying,” she glanced around. “I didn’t get glasses.” She frowned.

“S’ok. I don’t drink.” 

She smiled and said, “Neither do I, but remember whenever we were 14 and we said that we’d have our first drink together?”

“Yeah. We said on your 21st birthday.” He smiled and she felt warm in his gaze. She set the bottle down. “At any rate, they don’t need any wine. They’re being weird enough.”

“RIGHT?” Grace and Simon laughed awkwardly. “To be honest, I think that they realized that the only way to get me here was to hide their intentions from me. I wouldn’t have showed up if they had told me that they wanted to have dinner with your family.”

“Funny… I wouldn’t have come if they hadn’t told me, “Grace will be here for your birthday,” Simon admitted and leaned on the balcony rail. “All I wanted was to see you again. It’s all I could think about all month.”

“You’ve known about this all month? My mom called me last week!” She leaned next to him, her back against the rail, so that she could keep an eye on Hazel. For a moment, she had a flashback of the last time that they were out here together. The pain stung, but there was a numbness there… like that part of her that hurt was more like a limb that fell to sleep. “Hazel is the same age as we were when we met. I’ve been so paranoid about her running into trouble because I’m not present enough…”

“Is that what you think us meeting was? You running into trouble?” Simon asked. He didn’t seem offended, like he might have normally been. Just… curious.

“Don’t you think so? For both of us…”

He frowned and looked out at the Monroe yard. “I think that the people who messed up the most are all surrounding your kid right now.” 

“She loves them, though. I want her to have a good relationship with them. Not just because I didn’t, but because they’re the only grandparents she has.”

“Yeah, well… at the moment, MY parents are there too…” Grace stood up and folded her arms, looking at Hazel. Her parents had arranged for her and Simon to have their first joint birthday celebration since they were 16, and even arranged a sit down with the Laurents about everything that went wrong… Simon was also thinking about how messed up this was, because he added to her thoughts, “I feel weird about our parents finally talking, when we ourselves have finally gotten to good places in our lives and development.”

“I think it’s… A good thing, but just for them. For me… I think that the best thing has been that I survived. I thought that I was gonna die after everything. Nothing felt real. My whole life was just staring into nothingness and crying. I really did become the void…”

“No. You were NEVER that!” Simon said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “You always mattered. I was just too toxic to see that. The best thing for me has been that I realized how wrong I was…” Grace threw her arms around his neck and Simon relaxed in her arms and held her close. Every time was like the first time, but this was DIFFERENT different. This was the first hug that they had in some time and maybe even the first genuine one that they’ve had. Simon was caught up in his emotions, but quickly tried to keep them in check, “Wanna grab the kid and get outta here?” Simon asked, looking at her. They were still in the hug, but let some space in between their bodies.

Grace chuckled, “I mean… you know that my perfect birthday celebration is lowkey, with the closest people to me, some dogs and a walk around the creek. But, it’s not MY birthday.”

Simon turned and leaned back on the terrace this time, “If I had just done that with you for our 16th, things could have gone very differently.” 

“I think things would have eventually gone wrong anyway. We were both… beyond our own help. You seem fine now, though.”

“I’m not fine, but I’m better.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“Grab the cake, I’ll grab the kid,” she said with a smile. Simon obeyed, as she went inside and he followed. “Haze, grab your bag. We’re headed out.

“Headed out?” Mrs. Monroe asked. “To where?”

“Simon and I are taking Hazel to our old stomping grounds.” Hazel jumped up excited. All four of the parents exchanged worried looks, which Grace ignored and put an arm around Hazel to guide her towards the door. “Hopefully… the rest of you will get whatever you need out of… this…” They checked out early, giving their parents time to sort through their guilt.

The trio left the mansion, all three laughing and talking. Hazel about how she had heard so much about their adventures, though Simon was certain she only heard the sweet and not the… other stuff. He was just glad that Grace was willing to spend time with him again. It was the best birthday present he could’ve gotten. He didn’t deserve it, but he was going to be grateful.

Neither Simon or Grace had revisited much of their old places, so they wound up spending time well into the night taking Hazel to their childhood spots from when they were her age. Eventually she got so sleepy that she dozed off on the train and Simon had to carry her around. Grace told him that she could do it (she was pretty practiced in it and Hazel was a tall 10), with Simon still technically being in recovery for his injuries, but she guessed that his pride was still stubborn, because he insisted. 

They caught a cab back to the mansion, he put Hazel to bed, and Grace offered to walk him out. “Your parents have us in the guest house,” he said. 

“Excuse you?”

“We’re going to Belize… They didn’t tell you that EITHER?”

“What’re they trying to do? Get us back together??” She joked. 

He laughed, “Like you’d ever do that. You didn’t want me the first time.”

“That’s not true. I actually liked you way more than you liked me, because my feelings were selfless and pure.” He stared at his hands and nodded. She sat down in front of the front door and he sat next to her. “I wasn’t kidding whenever I’d say that I had the perfect relationship already, or whatever the hell I said that day. I can’t remember word for word, but I remember that all the words were true.”

“Yeah… If only I had been better.”

“Well… You said earlier that you’re better now.”

“Yeah…” He turned to look at her and she smiled and took his hand into hers. 

“We don’t have to talk about it. We can just live in it,” she said. That was always how she had been about them. No questions or comments about their feelings for each other, titles, etc. They were together and enjoying each other’s company again. The rest of the details were background noise. No things were not fine, and she didn’t know if things would ever be fine between them, considering the stuff that happened back then. But… things were better.


	26. I Hate This Fandom, and I Hate All of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely stole this line from an old friend in the Glee fandom, because it’s one that I think about EVERY TIME a fandom gets on my nerves, much the way that even this fandom does and in particular Simon stans. Idk what to tell y’all if y’all feel some type of way... be better people. ANYWHO! Shoutout to my friend for a quote that still means a lot to me 10 years later.

There was a lot of buzz surrounding the mini vacation for Simon’s birthday. Their families were together in Belize. Simon’s photos only reflected Simon either being with Grace and Hazel on the trip, or Grace. For the type to hyperfixate and go through everyone’s pages, they could find entire group photos and stuff on Mr. Laurent’s and Mrs. Monroe’s pages as Mr. Monroe didn’t have social media and Mrs. Laurent’s wasn’t sophisticated (inspirational quotes and recipes and DIYs that she was never going to actually try). Simon’s selected photos always looked like professional stills of the scenery, candids and capturing all the beauty possible, while Grace took hundreds of photos of everything from hijinks and mishaps to food to selfies, and they always just looked like somebody living her best life.

But, someone asked, “Are you in Belize with Grace Monroe?” on Simon’s photo of a pair two pairs of bare feet in the dirt - one an older person, dark brown skin, several scars from previous damages and new callouses, and a younger person’s lighter brown skin and cutesy temporary tattoos on the base of their feet. 

“Grounding, also called earthing, is a therapeutic technique that involves doing activities that “ground” or electrically reconnect you to the earth. This practice relies on earthing science and grounding physics to explain how electrical charges from the earth can have positive effects on your body.” Simon had put as the caption. In the same photo set, you could see an image of his own feet in the dirt, and...

“These are Grace and Hazel Monroe’s feet, right???” When they flipped through the set, there was near the end of several pictures of the landscape and sky, silhouettes of two people in the sunset - remarkably shaped like Grace and Hazel dancing in the dirt.

“OMG OGM GOM MOG MG OOMG…”

“Simon and Grace are BACK ON y’all!”

“Grace is letting Simon post photos of her! You all know that she’s very secretive about Simon these days, and now they’re in Belize and he’s posting photos! We WON everybody!”

“GRACE???”

Grace’s comments were a little bit less like that. A little bit. She had almost forgotten how “Simon’s fans” could get. She had looked up one of those “foods to order when you’re in Belize” articles and gotten everything on the list, took a photo of the table top and captioned, “About to go IN!” And less than a few moments later, had SO MANY, “Are you with Simon/Simon is gonna eat most of that/Save some for Simon/What did Simon order/So jealous that you get to eat all of that! Save room for desert AKA Simon!” That was the point where she decided to go on a comments black out. There could be no more comments on whatever photos that she took for the rest of the trip. Simon left his open, though. It blew his mind that half a year ago, people were telling him that they were disappointed in him for hurting Grace and lying about it, or that they were disappointed in him for trusting Grace again after everything, and now SOME of those very same people were extremely excited just to see them having brunch together that they were already working on wedding date headcanons and pregnancy foreshadowing. This entertained him. Grace wasn’t as much of a fan and contacted Hazel’s social media rep to ensure that any comments or questions about Simon were promptly deleted from any of her pages. Sometimes, they did that too. That was less amusing to Simon. He really believed that kids should be left out of things like that.

Simon knew that he was the reason that they didn’t last, as friends or otherwise and he had come to terms with that, but he still wanted her to be able to forgive him someday, trust him again and let him be a part of her life. This wasn’t her intention with this trip, so he definitely couldn’t take it as a sign. She was enjoying Belize with her daughter and making the most of the fact that her parents had foolishly invited him along, thinking it could be beneficial in some way. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to enjoy his limited time with her to the fullest. 

Plus, he and Hazel had made some small steps to acceptance on her tour of their memory lane. Surprisingly to him, Grace was very open with Hazel about her wrongs. She did tell her about how she fought and hunted down Simon’s bullies, how she stabbed one with a fork and kept it just to remind herself of that day. She told her things that Simon never would have wanted to ever let his kids know that he had done. Hazel just hugged her, told her that she understood her pain better now and that she was proud of her for being able to be a good and strong person now. She posted something about her mom being her hero and being so glad that she had somebody like her in her life. It was really cute. 

Simon went to follow her on her social media and someone even noticed THAT. “Simon Laurent is now following Hazel Monroe on like everything!” They posted with screenshots of his name following each account and an eyeballs emoji. He… blocked the person. He didn’t block people very much, but where Hazel was concerned, he didn’t want any of his stuff to bleed over into her space. Grace wouldn’t like that and he didn’t like it, either. 

He and Hazel had spoken about the charm bracelet. She had been chronicling the charms with their stories, and said something like, “I feel like I’m wearing a sacred relic on my wrist.” 

“Speaking of…” Simon had said, and reached into his satchel. “I made you copies of something…” 

He showed her some pages of what could ONLY be two Esmoroth books and she squealed, hugged them to herself and stuck them in her own tote. “Expect my notes on them, soon.” He gave her a salute. Grace watched them interact and she couldn’t remember many moments that he talked to kids - like she had seen him at work with them and even sometimes whenever she caught part of one of his scouts things, but seeing him and Hazel sort of bonding affected her. She was equal parts cautious and soft. Simon seemed genuine though, and that only became more noticeable during the trip.

He was doing stuff like making sure she was walking on the inside when they went down streets, reflexively shielding her in crowds, helping her over, up onto stuff whenever she looked like she might struggle - things that Grace would normally do/try to do but wait it out to see if Hazel could do it herself or ask her if she needed help. Simon jumped into action and it didn’t seem to bother Hazel, so Grace was able to watch her get babied a little bit. It was cute. She snapped several photos, just for herself, though. 

They got back to the villa to see that Mrs. Monroe had arranged another dinner. “This woman, I swear,” Grace mumbled. Simon laughed a little. 

Mrs. Monroe announced, “We had a spa day and I got the Laurents makeovers. The three of you get washed up and dressed. The photographer is already here and I don’t want him to catch you three looking like… This.” she circled her hands at them, then waved them off. 

“What… should I wear?” Simon asked as they walked off.

“I’ve set your outfits out!” Mrs. Monroe called at his back, “All of you!” 

“I really feel like I’m 15 again,” Grace said shaking her head. Simon let out a grunt of agreement. 

Hazel wondered, “This is what 15 feels like???” Not her 15. Grace was NEVER gonna do this type of stuff to her. But, the occasional bossiness of GlamMother Monroe would be fine. ONLY on occasion. 

They reconvened with the family on the patio, overlooking the water as they were relaxed enough to not be as uncomfortable as at the birthday dinner. Hazel and Simon were talking about how far along she had gotten in his book, which she had her copy of at the table and was going over notes so far (she was pleased with where it was going and she enjoyed the angst between the Future King and the Idol Princess, “A lot more than I would have before everything I learned about you and my mom,” Grace heard her say. 

“Do you want more?” Grace heard an unfamiliar voice ask. 

She turned to see Mrs. Laurent staring at her with gray eyes… Simon’s eyes. Ugh… This is where he got those? She forced a smile and shrugged, “Someday.”

The woman leaned closer to her and said, “It gets tougher whenever there’s another. You have a hard time juggling the same amount of love that you have in you between more bodies.”

“I don’t think I’ll have that problem, but I’m going to take everything that the professionals say into consideration whenever I begin to think about expanding the family.”

“Simon was really easy. You just give him a little block set or something to build and he would leave you alone for hours. His sister needed constant attention. She just couldn’t stand not being focused on. I could easily leave Simon alone for half a day whenever he was 6. Hope couldn’t be left for a couple of hours, even having someone there with her…”

“Leave her alone,” they heard Simon growl at his mother in a low voice. The woman frowned and sat back in her seat. “Are you okay, Grace?” Simon looked at Grace’s hands clutching the table. She looked at them too, and released her grip, then saw Hazel, looking at her concerned and looking at Mrs. Laurent suspiciously.

“Yeah. She was just talking about motherhood.”

“About how she was terrible at it?” Simon asked.

“Simon…” Grace started.

But Hazel interjected, “Not everybody has a mom like you, Grace.”

“My mom isn’t perfect…”

“I think she meant a mom who is like you,” Simon said. Hazel nodded. “Some of us got hit a lot and yelled at, called names…”

“Abandoned in a field for days…”Hazel added. “Not to say that GlamMother was better! Just… sometimes it’s harder to trust people again, depending on what they did and well… as a mommy, doing bad stuff to your kid makes it so hard to even be nice.”

Grace nodded and adjusted Hazel’s braids. She had braided her hair whenever they were on the plane, to pass the time on the long flight. “I understand. I’ve been hurt by somebody that I thought really loved me before…” Simon blinked and turned away. Hazel gave him a sympathetic glance. Grace added, “But, I’m really trying not to be angry with them forever, and I think maybe our moms might be able to inherit a little bit of the same kind of forgiveness that we would want from others.”

Hazel scoffed, “She is definitely talking to you, Simon. There’s no way I’m forgiving any time soon.”

Simon said, “Noted,” and stared into his cup. He sat for a while longer and then took his cup and left the table. Hazel lowered her eyes, avoiding looking at Grace. 

Mrs. Laurent offered, “He’s always been really sensitive. I’ll go…”

“No,” Grace said. “You… stay.” She stood up, glanced at Mrs. Laurent, slid Hazel’s chair away from her a little, basically letting Hazel know not to engage with that woman (though Hazel seemed to be the only person that the woman was kind hearted to, probably reminded her of her daughter or something). Grace found Simon pacing and clenching his fists. She turned to leave. This was a private moment, but he glanced up, saw her and stopped moving. She winced and clasped her hands together, “I was coming to check on you.” He relaxed a little and sat down on the nearby stairs. 

She leaned against the rail and explained, “I’m not saying that you have to forgive your mom if you want me to forgive you. That’s not what I meant to convey. I just mean… that I try to think about things from the other person’s shoes a lot more than I used to. I remember right before I snapped, I asked my mom if you really believed all of the things you said about me, or if you were just a really good liar. I still don’t really know for sure what the answer is and I don’t think you do, either. And, whenever we don’t even fully know ourselves, how can we possibly know what others are going through? For all I know, you’re in the most pain that has ever pained anyone. I couldn’t say. What I can say is that I won’t let your pain be an excuse to hurt me, and as long as you aren’t hurting me, I see no reason to punish you.” She sat next to him. “But, maybe you and your mom can’t be like that, and that’s valid. I was just throwing something out in the air. I probably should have thought it through.”

“It’s true though. The stuff I did is just as unforgivable as the stuff she did. How can I expect you to ever trust me again when I’m not willing to do the same with her?”

“I mean… you and me are different people. You and her are different people. Not everything is interchangeable.”

“Any time I’m near Hazel, you look like at any moment, you expect me to throw her into the ocean. It feels really bad, but I get it. So… I know that she MIGHT be hurting too. It’s just… so hard. And to think that this is the way that I make you feel when I’m around, trying to pretend that I’m normal… It’s the most painful part. What can I do though? I made it this way. I did things that can’t be undone. Even in trying to rectify it, that’s just… treating an injury. I’ll never be able to remove the scars.” He had tears falling down his face, which he wiped away before she could have the chance to feel bad. “And you’re the last person that I should be whining to about it, because you’re the victim in this story.”

“A survivor,” she corrected. “Who has chosen to try to understand. Let’s give each other a little more space. We went around town, living in the old days and that maybe threw us a bit out of reality’s orbit. You were fine before we hung out..” He opened his mouth to debate, but she caught herself and corrected, “Well, not fine, but better. And… you need to get increasingly better. Until you’re well.” She got up and he watched her go back out and collect Hazel. They turned in early that night. He went back out to talk to his mom… 

.

The Laurents were awake early and the only ones in the kitchen with Hazel whenever Grace emerged from their quarters. Mr. Laurent had made pancakes and eggs, and Hazel was stuffing her face and reading. Simon was next to her, ready to protect her, if he had to, while his mother was nursing a cup of coffee with a full, cold plate in front of her. “Good morning!” Grace cheered and kissed Hazel on top of the head, then Simon, though she awkwardly cringed after she did. He blushed, but didn’t make a big deal out of it. Yeah, she requested space, but she was also always affectionate and they had been around each other a lot the past few days. 

“Good morning,” Mr. Laurent said. “Plenty of pancakes and eggs!” 

“I’m having breakfast with my parents, but thank you for the offer,” she said in a fake sweet voice. “Hazel, why don’t you go get ready for the day. We’re spending it with your grands.”

“Yes!!! They give the BEST day out presents!” Grace sat down, and Simon noticed that with the off the shoulders blouse she had on, he could see the tan marks on her now even darker brown skin. He… liked tan marks. And… her hair smelled really good. Her lips looked so moist… She squinted her eyes at him and he quickly turned away and grabbed his plate and Hazel’s to clear them from the table. 

“What do you all have planned for the day?” She asked.

“I’m going to take Samantha to the beach,” Simon said. 

“If you can find her. I told you to keep her in her crate,” Mrs. Laurent said.

“I let her out in my quarters, not in the entire villa. She’s somewhere in my space,” he said. They had been bickering. He told her that he was trying to forgive her, because forgiving her might mean being able to forgive himself for the things that he had done. She told him that even if she tried for the rest of her life, she couldn’t forgive him for what he did to Hope… So… They weren’t any closer to whatever it was Grace was at in her growth journey. “I might do something with my hair,” Simon said, shrugging his shoulders as he washed dishes and returning his attention to Grace’s question. “Since I have that patch on the side from getting kicked in the head, I sort of want to do something Viking looking or elvish… Maybe a braid and a side do.”

“That sounds hot,” Grace said. He blushed again. “There might be something in Hazel’s Celtic book! There were some hairstyles in there. She carries the thing around a lot. Every since we found out that she had it in her DNA, she’s sorta been obsessed with Celtic history and the fact that there’s hazel tree lore is her favorite coincidence in the world.” Simon smiled and put the clean dishes away. 

“She’s a great kid. You’re doing great with her.”

“It’s really not that hard. I just love her a lot and always try to give her what’s best for her and trust her to let me know if she doesn’t agree with what’s best for her… which isn’t often, at all. I worry that she sometimes maybe has too much emotional maturity. Like, if I shouldn’t coddle her a little more…” She bit her lip. “Like… how can you even tell when it’s what’s best?”

“She is happy and healthy. I trust that you do what’s best.” He cut his eyes at his mother and dismissed himself just as Hazel returned. They high fived each other when they crossed paths and Grace got up so that they could leave. She’d meet her parents elsewhere later. She couldn’t just stay in there with the Laurents, no matter how nice they were maybe trying to be.

.

She and Simon did well enough keeping their space through the rest of the trip. By Monday morning, when they were all back home, Grace wondered if Hazel needed a day to recover, but she was SO READY to get to school and brag to her friends about how she had been given drafts of the next two books of Esmoroth and how she wouldn’t tell them what happened and they would be SO jealous and think she’s SO cool. “They might even think that I’m lying. That’s why I have photos of me and Simon, with both of the drafts. They’re gonna be extremely, extremely envious.”

Grace laughed, “Why do you want your friends to be envious?”

“Because, that’s how you know it’s the good stuff.” Hazel still had her braids in. They probably wouldn’t last as long as that style would in Grace’s head, but Grace estimated she still had a few weeks before they would have to take them down. Also, Grace noticed that after giving Simon the leaf in her hair whenever they went to get on their planes home… She hadn’t replaced it. She put in one of her leaf clips and almost left the door without Grace! Grace caught up with her and the girl was as lively as ever. Grace didn’t have that same enthusiasm. 

The weekend was exhausting for her. Seeing her parents wore her out. Seeing them, the Laurents, and specifically Simon? She was about to sleep this entire day, until it was time to meet up with Hazel afterschool. Back in her own bed, with her own energy in her space, her own schedule and company (or lack thereof) it was great. 

.

Simon had went live while he was working on styling his hair, to clear up all of the rumors about he and Grace rekindling their romance, which essentially boiled down to, “Grace and I are not together. We aren’t even friends again. The Monroes were nice enough to treat my family to a vacation for my birthday. I love, admire, adore, worship, would die for Grace, but I’ve done too much stuff for her to ever trust me again and I have to be okay with that, so all of you should be, too.”

Grace didn’t know until Hazel told her that Forgive Him Grace and Groveling for Grace were a thing. She watched the video and was amazed that they had taken his words and decided to do the complete opposite, because of course they did! She merely made a post, with no tags or links that said, “I hate this fandom, and I hate all of you.” Some were in the comments laughing, because they knew exactly what she was talking about. Some were asking her what fandom it was and offering words of kindness. Some were just flooding it with those stupid hashtags. 

Simon messaged her to apologize and insist that he didn’t mean for THIS to happen. She turned it into a video call, which he immediately picked up.

“Your followers have always been a very… special kind. Unreasonable. Stubborn. Obsessively defensive, even when you absolutely don’t deserve it.” He looked embarrassed. “You trained them too well. Jeesh.”

“They’re literally a little cult on the internet,” he said.

“Yup. They better not be bothering my baby.”

“No. I shut that shit down the moment I see it. I actually pinned an exile list to the top of my pages specifically for that.”

She checked and saw “For troubling Hazel Monroe, you will be exiled and your name will go upon this wall of shame.” It was followed by a list of names of people he blocked and at the bottom, “Leave her alone or you won’t be welcome here.” 

“This is kinda adorable,” she said. “I love how you are with her. It means a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me, so she does too,” he said. She bit her lip and blew air through her lips. He smiled. “I love that you still do that. I was counting the similarities and differences.”

“I’d love to hear what you came up with!” She said.

“Okay. Similarities: You still do that brrrr thing with your mouth when you’re thinking or uncomfortable. You still play with people’s hair as a show of affection. You playfully tugged on Hazel’s braids so many times! Your feet still bother you… though they seem to be giving you more trouble than before. You still try to play nice with people and speak sweetly… Differences: You’re more confident. Not that you were insecure before, but you used to care what people think about you and now, you just don’t. It’s really sexy.” She blushed. “You’re independent. You don’t need anybody else and you used to always want somebody around. Like, you love Hazel and keep her close, but I can tell that you also allow her freedom and don’t demand her obedience like your parents did to you. And you’re… everything. I can’t believe that I convinced myself that you were nothing. You’re everything, and I would do anything for you.” They both just stared at each other a while. 

“Well… That’s a nice thought. I’ll think of you if I need anything.”

“Or if you want anything…. Anything at all, Grace. I swear.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you soon. Get your followers together!”

“I’m on it,” he said and rested his chin on his hands. She exited the conversation and took a deep breath. She didn’t know what he meant by any of that, but she had a feeling that it would be clear soon. Simon never made a declaration that he wasn’t going to come through about. Even “new” Simon. 


	27. A Night to Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning for Sexual Themes. Inspiration includes links at the top of the page and Beychella/Homecoming.

_(This[Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=guB_jQkCzCo), and Used This [Video](https://twitter.com/bruhchili/status/593648463608446978))_

Grace woke up on her 23rd birthday, on September 23rd with Hazel in her room, wearing a hat and a tie, with a tray of breakfast and a flower, watching her with anticipation. “Oh! Hazel! You shouldn’t have. What time did you wake up today to do all of this?”

“Don’t get too excited. Everything on this tray is inedible, but I did my best, because this is your first birthday as my mom!” Grace collected Hazel to herself and kissed her on the cheek. This was a very special birthday for her. Grace loved the number 23!

Being born on that day might have something to do with it, but she was also very interested in the fact that it had a lot of significance in various belief systems and there were a few instances of people obsessed with it. Now, she was becoming that age (only for a year), but the first day was very important to her.

She wanted inner peace, alignment, awareness, and everything else well wishers would wish to be manifested in her life.

After she got Hazel off to school, she told Simon that she would visit, to collect whatever gift he wanted to give her. He was in New York for the week (she hoped for something other than trying to give her a birthday gift, but he was very vague about why he was there), and since she still wasn’t keen on him knowing where she lived, she told him that she would stop by where he was staying, but it probably wouldn't be until later that evening, or the next day.

She had plenty to do before getting Hazel after school. Spa day with 23 treats, hair and makeup, fashion stylist, and a birthday party with some of her favorite local musicians performing… Well, the spa day at least was during school hours. Hazel was going to spend her first night since she became a Monroe away from home. Lucy's parents were allowing her to stay there a couple of nights, as Grace would be both celebrating and recovering from this time. THEN, she and Hazel were going to spend the weekend going to an amusement park, a wildlife park and animal sanctuary, and a live filming of The Mighty Tuba and Her Musical Friends. (Because Grace felt guilty about taking 3 days to herself, even though Hazel repeatedly promised her that she wanted her to enjoy those and that she deserved a little break).

For Grace, a spa day was "a little break," she might as well be abandoning Hazel in the woods for this! Surely, she knew that was an exaggeration, but she felt really bad and several times considered not doing her birthday plans. When her mother offered to come there and stay with Hazel to ensure she took a few days, she decided to just let herself enjoy the plans. Besides, she was going to be checking in with Hazel and Lucy's parents had her direct phone number in case of any emergency.

Being pampered to the absolute fullest, styled like a swan goddess, and escorted with a dope entourage of fly ladies to her birthday party, she absolutely forgot about Simon's gift. She didn't remember until all the performances were over and there was something similar to an after party in the VIP and one of the staff asked her if she knew a dude named Simon Lawrence. She looked towards the door and saw Simon outside looking extremely nervous and ready to take off running at any moment. "Let him inside," she said, mostly out of guilt. He probably saw her tagged here on someone's posts. She greeted him with a hug, "Hey, I'm so sorry I didn't stop by! The night got away from me!"

"Don't mention it. I just wanted to be able to say happy birthday to your face because you were able to for mine."

"Cool. Umm…" she introduced him around the circle and with one particular person said, "And you probably remember," (he didn't hear the name), "from Julliard." The woman looked just as suspicious of him as she had whenever he stopped by the school. He guessed they were friends now.

"Simon, what did you get Grace for her birthday?" One of the guys asked. He was a Black ginger with a huge pony puff tail and a braided beard.

"Ummm… I got her a few things."

"Like what?" One of the women asked. Simon recognized her as the woman who claimed to be Grace's best friend on social media. (The same that Grace called to talk to about him showing up out of nowhere, but he didn't know that). She had numerous piercings and a tattoo that stretched seemingly over her entire body of a Phoenix.

"Just some… she'll tell you later, I'm sure. You're her best friend, right?"

"Right," she said, her brown eyes cutting into him. Also seated there was Shana, in all black, with a light skinned woman on her lap, dressed in all gold, with a huge blond afro and glittering makeup.

"Is.. this a costume party?" Simon asked.

"It's an autumn gala," Grace said and gestured to an empty seat near the best friend. He sat down and the only other white person with them shifted a little to make room. "Oh, um… Simon, my friend Tulip is an engineer too! She works at a videogame place or something. You two might talk on that…"

"Simon," Tulip said, "What's your favorite Grace Monroe original song?"

Simon tilted his head. It seemed everyone was going to just ask stuff about Grace. "Stingray."

"Okay. Why?"

"Ummm… it's about me," he said and fiddled with his fingers.

"So is Bastard King."

"So is Have At It Bruh"

"So is You Thought…" Grace let out an embarrassed laugh as all of her friends spoke at the same time. "So, all of you really wanna bring up old stuff?" She asked. "Simon and.i are in a good place now." The best friend made a face that seemed to conflict with that.

"Did you come to New York for her birthday?" Ginger dude asked.

"No, I've got a potential career opportunity, and I came to speak with a company about that," Simon said.

"Like an assignment?"

"No, a permanent position."

"You… you might be living here?" Grace asked. She didn't seem very "in a good place* about it, and she didn't wait for an answer before she got up and walked away. The best friend, Shana, Shana's girlfriend, Tulip and another girl who seemed to be Tulip's girlfriend all got up to follow her. Simon ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath.

.

"Moving here? He thinks he can just move HERE??" Grace asked, ready to cry. "Like it's not enough that my parents had him in their space the last time I was there, now his ass is coming here???"

"Good place, huh?" Her best friend asked.

"You know how she is, Damita," Shana said. “Don’t let him get to you. He would love that. Just make him EAT it. Go back out there, have a good time right in front of his face, then never say another word to him again.”

“She wants to say another word to him. That’s why she said he could come in and sit with us,” Damita said. “What you might as well do is have a birthday hookup, get your gifts, get off, and get on with your life.”

“NO!” Shana squealed. “She can’t fuck him! That’s what he WANTS!”

“It’s what she wants too! She can get it out of the way, and not have to wonder if she’s all caught up because of that itch and just… move on from his ass."

“Can I talk?” Grace asked. They all looked at her. “I like all of these ideas. I don’t think I have an itch, though. It’s more like… I just want to be able to do it without being connected. I feel like the last time I was bamboozled. I wanna… I don’t know… bamboozle him. Because, he’ll think it matters to me again and I’ll be like Boy, Bye.” Her friends cheered and applauded. “But first, freshen up selfies…" They helped Grace refresh everything, then they took photos and posted them before stepping back out. Grace came back out and sat on Simon’s lap. He stiffened up and stared at her, but she didn’t glance at him for a reaction. Instead, she just resumed conversation with her friends. Eventually he relaxed and dared to rest an arm around her waist, but she looked down at it and looked at him, so he removed it, confused.

Shana took to the stage and said, “Okay, so we all know that our birthday girl Grace been partying like it's Beychella in here!” People screamed, particularly the ladies with Grace. Simon winced at the loudness. “Well, you all saw me and her dance and you like it and you love it. You heard some great music, but Miss Thang Thang Boo Boo hasn’t sung yet. So, I would like to request a little song called Figures, it’s by Ms. Jessie Reyez and I just know that my good sis knows it and I’ll bet she sounds better. No shade, no shade. Get up here bitch.”

Grace laughed and stood up. Shana tossed the mic and she caught it. “Bitch… You could’ve hurt somebody!” The music started playing and Grace strutted towards the stage, singing, “Figures. I gave you ‘ride or die’ and you gave me games. Love, figures. I know I'm crying 'cause you just won't change. Love figures. I gave it all and you gave me shit Love figures I wish I could do exactly what you did..” Simon stirred as she headed for the stage. He had been looking up the lyrics to some of Grace’s songs and was glad that she wasn’t going to sing one of those, but… this one was as bad. But, she was in the zone and the crowd loved her. Shana was drunk and rocking against her on the stage, sporadically pointing at him and lipsyncing lyrics.

By the end of the song, he felt shittier than he had whenever he first sat down in the clearly unfriendly environment. He had to keep reminding himself, like the song said, this was his fault… But.. she was wrong about one thing. He would change. He HAD changed and he would do anything to prove it.

Grace passed the mic back and Shana said, “Hey, did y’all know that I can sing too?”

“NO YOU CAN’T!” Shana’s girlfriend yelled across the room.”

“I can’t? Watch this, watch this, watch this…” Grace watched as Shana began a terrible, tone deaf, “I was BORRRRRRRN by the river…” Grace quickly caught on. She knew where this was going. Shana was a fool and sent that video to everybody after it was brought up with one of her older friends… As Shana began the short rap, Grace twerked on the stage and Simon clutched the seat. He had never seen her do that in person before. She didn’t used to do that type of dancing, and it was so much nicer than in the already titillating videos. Shana and Grace hugged and then Shana insisted, “Play more Beyonce. Beyonce and Solange, that’s all we need right now.”

That was the alert for all of the ladies in Grace’s party to rush back to the dance floor. Simon realized that there were only two guys there and they got up and left eventually, hugging and kissing the ladies on their way out. Simon stayed at the table. The ladies eventually made it back to take a breather and to have drinks. Grace only had water with lime and mint, but she was really enjoying herself. He was glad that she wasn’t angry about him thinking about moving to New York. He wanted to be closer to her, but it also was an amazing opportunity for his career.

A song began to play and every last one of the women there bent over and began to shake… Even that girl Tulip was dancing like nobody was looking, up against her girlfriend. Grace and Damita’s shaking was almost directed right at Simon. He sat back, unsure if he should maybe move. Damita moved closer to his lap and made eye contact with Grace. He didn’t know what for, but Damita was practically giving him a lap dance. Was… this some sort of test? Because… she certainly was attractive, but how much of an ass would he be to let this be a problem for him in front of Grace?

Grace hardly seemed to mind. She climbed the chair, threw one of her legs on Simon’s shoulder and began a body roll right in his face. By that time, he was certain that they were trying to kill him. He felt faint, but he held on to her, because this seemed unstable, even for somebody graceful and he was worried that she might fall. He wasn’t trying to feel her up… there just was no innocent way of holding her there. She smelled SO good, he was weak. Damita moved away, to dance with Shana and Tulip. By the end of the song, Grace climbed down and straddled Simon’s lap, her arms rested on his shoulders, staring into his eyes. He looked completely infatuated. “Can I come over?” She asked him…

Like he would have said no under ANY circumstance, much less after 3 full minutes of her grinding her business in his face. He was careful not to move his hands to wrap around her as he nodded, trying to stay composed. She might just not want to be home alone on her birthday or something. She most definitely probably was not interested in doing anything with him.

After a few more minutes, the ladies closed out their tabs, Grace grabbed a ridiculously long fur from the coat room and the others were putting on their coats and stuff. Simon noticed some hand signals and facial expressions, and at the end of all that and the walk to the elevator, he noticed that Shana looked mad. Her girlfriend was trying to talk her down. He heard something like, “She’s worked too hard to let this bullshit start up again.”

“What was that?” Simon asked, a bit defensively, unable to hold back. It was still Shana, to him and he had been taking shit off of her all night. But, whenever he spoke, it was like he’d lit a fire under her ass. Shana pushed passed her girlfriend and lunged with her fist at him. Grace squealed and moved out of the way. Tulip’s girlfriend ducked behind her while Shana’s girlfriend just shook her head, Grace steered clear and Tulip tried to stop Shana. She was punching Simon in the head and neck, much like Grace had on the terrace all those years ago. The only problem was that he had apparently not been able to take a punch as well as he used to since his near death experience… or Shana was extremely vicious.

“Shana! Shana, STOP!” Grace yelled.

Shana only stopped whenever the elevator doors opened and she was yelling at him as Tulip and her girlfriend pulled her out. Shana’s girlfriend said, “I’m sorry. She had way too much to drink tonight. Grace has all our contact info for like bills or whatever…”

Simon shook his head and waved a hand, but he was hesitant to leave the building until Shana’s yelling was far enough away. Grace took a deep breath and checked his head, “You okay? She had on rings. She got a lot of your skin off of your chin and neck.”

“It’s my fucked up side, so that’s fine.” She looked at the old scars, including the big one on the side of his head, where his hair no longer grew.

“I can drive,” she said. He nodded and pulled out his keys. She was able to put the address in her maps and get them there no problem. She felt bad, now. For the plans that she had for him tonight… but, she remembered that when he had the chance to hurt her, he didn’t give a fuck what else she had going on, so they’d tend to those little injuries and she was going to ride his face until she got tired and go home… Maybe some other things, if he played his cards right.

Simon was exhausted and felt terrible, but Grace had her little medical kit and was being helpful and gentle, which just made him want her even more. “Hey… thanks.”

“No problem. It was my friend that busted your ass up,” she snickered when she said it. “I was surprised that you didn’t at least get her off of you.”

“It was a small space and you were right next to me. I didn’t want anybody else to get hurt if it could just be me.” She pursed her lips and finished up.

Whenever she was done, she put her things away and finally took off her coat. The outfit looked even better in the closed space of his bnb rental. She kicked off her shoes, as most of the place appeared to be carpeted and she went into the kitchen. “I’m a little hungry. You got anything?” She was looking before he had a chance to answer and he got up to join her.

“I can make you something.”

“Cool,” she said. “You haven’t cooked for me since… Oh. That weekend.” She looked hurt as her mind traveled back to that time.

“I hate me for that, too,’ he said. He pulled out some stuff to cook. “Do… you want me to get your presents while I cook?”

“Oooh, yes, please!” She said, smiling, trying to forget about thinking about that weekend too much. He took off towards the back of the house and she glanced around the place. He had three laptops on the desk in the living room, the dining room table was covered in what she recognized to be the organized chaos of his work, and he had a cat tree next to the couch, which was white leather, and had earth tone throw pillows on it. She wondered where the fracking cat was. Probably hiding somewhere. She stayed hiding whenever they were younger, and probably did more now that she was hella old.

Simon came back in and had a two tier trolley cart with a huge basket at the bottom and a wrapped box and a bouquet on the top. Grace made an excited sound. She LOVED receiving gifts and she always would. But, the bouquet was an arrangement of blues and purples - hydrangeas, asters, large daisies, bluebells and large pink roses, PLUS, she saw from the tag that he had got them from a friend’s shop (that she realized he probably found on her page, somewhere). He asked, “Can I take photos?”

“Sure.” She opened the box first, because it was closer and when she did, she pulled out a few things… The first was a doll of some sort, dark brown skin with goddess locs, pulled up in a headwrap of flowers (like she would frequently wear her hair to school), a halo crown, and a gold dress with jade jewelry and chartreuse accents… “What the fuck is this, Simon? Is this… me… at our dance?”

He smiled, “Sort of. That’s the prototype of the Idol Princess. I’m going to have dolls manufactured.” Grace didn’t know if she wanted to reach into the box again. The doll was beautiful. The likeness was uncanny and the attention to detail on the dress… she couldn’t even remember that damn dress, but looking at it, everything looked exactly as her brain seemed to be piecing together. “You hate it.”

“I don’t hate it. It’s beautiful.” That was just… a little bit much… a lot much, actually. She set it aside and found a scroll with her name’s meaning, with the backdrop of artwork of her face. Beautiful and sweet. A Libra crystal collection in a very nice box with beautiful accompanying cards. She wasn’t a huge mystic, but she did love the idea of having things that might shift energy or help to feel certain ways near her, so she definitely loved those. There was a book that she had mentioned wanting to buy (officially letting her know that he was stalking her pages again), but she didn’t mind. It felt like old normal but with her new self awareness. It didn’t matter, because she wasn’t doing anything to provoke or tempt him or encourage him… though as she kept pulling gifts out, she missed this. She missed being given so many nice things at once. She missed being given tribute. She missed gifts from Simon. “You paid for all of this, right? I don’t want the police to come snatch it up.”

He frowned, being reminded of things he did always stung, but he knew that she was only joking, making light of one of the things he did to hurt her so that she wouldn’t feel so awkward accepting presents from him. “Everything is legal and belongs to you.” He forced a smile, behind a pained expression.

Grace didn’t notice and he was extremely relieved that she wasn’t looking at him right then. She let out a long gasp and looked at him, her eyes sparkling now… “Did you… did you order ALL of my things from places that my friends and familiars own?”

He smiled brightly, “I knew you’d notice!”

“Did you tell them that this was stuff for me?”

“I did. Everyone was very eager to make sure that an order for you was perfect. I’m smart sometimes.”

“Always have been. Thanks for sending business their ways,” She gave him a hug.

At the bottom of the trolley was a huge basket of natural beauty products and an elegantly decorated bag of treats… stuff she knew he used to like to watch her eat. “Oh my God. Are you still into that?” She asked, knowing she didn’t have to be more detailed.

“I will turn on those videos for hours while I work. I follow several pages that are just that. Which reminds me. I gotta get back to cooking.” he called out while she opened stuff and smelled it or just admired her gifts, “I’m thinking lamb, maybe some couscous and beets?”

“It’s like 3 am, Dude. You don’t have anything quick?”

“Ummm… no. I cook, but I spent most of the night at the party at the club. You… seemed to have a great time.” He smiled, thinking about her performance towards the end of the night. Not the song. He pushed that part from his mind. The other part. He could still smell her if he thought about it. “It’ll take less than an hour for me to do everything. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. I haven’t eaten since brunch,” she said, holding her rumbling belly. She grabbed a honeycomb and some soft cheeses from her bag and posted up on the island. They talked casually about work and holiday plans. She and Hazel were going to be hosting Christmas at her house because trying to bring gifts across the country was going to be stupid. Her parents would mail any gifts and visit if they wanted to see her. “What about the Laurents?”

“I don’t fuck with them. I know that you said the thing about forgiveness or whatever, but the time that I was stuck there, trying to recover was enough stress for me from them… well, from Dad. She wasn’t there. She went back to Grandma’s. Her problem now. I did get to see one of our dad’s boxing bouts though. That was pretty entertaining.”

“Our what’s whats?”

“They took up boxing, seemingly just to be able to punch the shit out of each other every week. It was one of my few pleasures being stuck there." Grace almost choked on her cheese thinking about both of their fathers getting into a ring to fight.

Dinner was served around 3:30. Simon look absolutely exhausted but Grace didn't care about that, that much. He wondered, "After dinner do you want to head home because I can take you or of course you're welcome to crash here if it's just too late?"

"I was thinking that I was going to go home tonight but it's almost morning and I really feel like the trip will be super tiring."

"You're always welcome wherever I am."

"That's a nice thing to say. I'll just figure out what I'm going to do depending on how I feel after the cunnilingus." It was Simon's turn to choke now. Grace smirked as she chewed her food, watching him struggle to get to his water. "I hope that's not gonna be a problem. It IS still my birthday celebration."

He barely got the words out, "Not at all gonna be a problem." He drank more water. "I'm just surprised. Thrilled… but surprised."

"Don't be too thrilled. I'm not looking for love. I just want to get off. I think I deserve it."

"You do."

"I guess I should wash up first," she said, not really wanting to.

"No!" He blushed when she looked at him. "It's good. It's great. You put it right in my face earlier, remember? It was extremely palatable…"

She smiled, "You're nasty."

"You want me to be tonight, right?" He raised an eyebrow. She just smiled and continued eating.

Even with the promise at hand Simon definitely still cleared the dishes, washed them, and put them away before acknowledging what she said was about to go down. Grace grabbed him by the color of his shirt and looked him in the eyes. "I'm in charge tonight. It's my way or nothing,you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," he whispered. "On your knees!" He quickly followed the order. She hadn't bossed him around in a while, and even before it had never been like this. She held out her hands and he offered his, which she slid up her dress to her underwear. "Take them off." He was extremely eager to. "Follow me. Crawl." Simon did as he was told and when they reached the bedroom, she turned and put her foot on his chest, "Your hands don't go anywhere that I don't put them. You'll only be kissing one set of lips tonight, and when I'M satisfied, you'll need to draw me a bath and clean me off, then rub my feet until I fall asleep. And, I'm taking the bed. Understood."

"Fully."

She grabbed his hair to guide him to stand then shoved him onto the bed. "Keep your hands where I can see them," she told him as she crawled up on him, gaining her balance on the headboard. She shouldn't feel guilty for this and she wasn't going to let herself.


	28. After the Morning After

Guiltless Grace was the Grace that Grace liked the best. Nothing would convince her that she was wrong, because even if she was, she's human and allowed to make mistakes. Perfection plagued her a long time and she wouldn't be bringing any of that into her 23rd year. 

She woke up early, only a couple of hours after sleeping and called Hazel. 

"Hello!"

"Morning! How was your first night away?"

" I can handle it. I've slept in crazy places before. Lucy's is nice. They have an elevator!" 

"They live in a penthouse, so yeah. What are you having for breakfast?"

"Sugary cereal!" Hazel cheered. "It's GREAT!" Grace had to choke down getting upset about that. Sugary cereal wasn't great, but it wasn't going to kill Hazel to have a couple of days of it, even though that's not something that Grace ever bought.

"I stayed awake most of the night, so I'm going to get back to sleep soon."

"But you missed me?" Hazel asked.

"Yes."

Hazel laughed, "Get a life, Lady!" She joked. She and Grace laughed. "I'll bet I miss you tomorrow. I'm still enjoying myself… Are you enjoying yourself?"

Grace glanced around the unfamiliar room and looked where her swan goddess gown had been tossed onto the floor... It was gone now. Simon must've moved it. Meanwhile, she was in nothing but an oversized MIT hoodie that Simon let her borrow. She supposed she was enjoying herself, but truth be told, she didn't feel like the pay off for letting loose last night was worth all of the self doubt of today. She had allowed Simon to be near her again… "I'm allowing myself to be imperfect," Grace said. She didn't lie to Hazel, ever. She just… tried to figure out ways not to potentially scar her with whole truths. She wasn't going to tell her details about Simon, but if it came up, she would be honest that she was there. It came up.

"Your presents from Simon look really nice… I want to see that Idol Princess doll ASAP!" Grace had forgotten about letting Simon take photos. He must’ve posted them to his social media already. Of course Hazel wanted to see that doll. Hell, she could HAVE it… "I've been bragging to Lucy how my mom is gonna be a doll now. She's jealous, of course." 

They talked until it was time for the girls to head to school. Grace sadly let Hazel off of the phone and finally climbed out of the bed. Simon stirred on the couch when she peeked into the living room. He seemed to be having a nightmare. He was curled up with Samantha at his feet and Grace's fur coat over him presumably for warmth. He still looked to be freezing though and she realized that maybe the rental didn't have extra blankets. She felt bad as she went to pull the one off of the bed to cover him with, setting her coat aside first. He snuggled into the blanket, but didn't wake up. He also appeared to be sleeping a little better with it.

Grace studied him for a moment. He looked so different than he used to, in terms of scars and age, but here, sleeping, he was like the little boy that she met and fell for very quickly. That is, if the little boy's hair was starting to gray and his worries had caused deep lines in his face. Still. He looked at peace. She leaned over to give him a kiss on the temple and ordered a ride to come pick her up. 

Her dress had been folded and placed on the trolley with her gifts. She peeked outside and it was pretty cool out there. Enough that she wanted to keep the socks that Simon had given her after her foot rub. They were really comfy and soft. Perfect. She was gonna take them. But, she removed his sweatshirt and got back into her dress. Her hair was.. a mess… nothing she could do about it at the moment. 

Whenever she got the alert for the car, she pushed the trolley outside and gave the driver a tip to pack it for her. She went to grab her purse and coat, brought the trolley back inside, gave Simon another kiss and left.

He heard the door shut and his eyes flew open. Simon jumped up and went to the door to look out. He saw a car down the road, but didn’t recognize it. He locked the door, wondering if he’d left it unlocked last night by accident. After a quick bathroom visit, he peeked into the bedroom and… Grace was gone. She left his sweatshirt on the bed, had changed back into her dress and was just gone. That must’ve been the door. 

He frowned, but she HAD told him that it wasn’t going to mean anything, and he agreed to proceed anyway. Her panties were still on the floor… He picked them up and tucked them into his pocket, unsure if she would want those back or not. He shot her a quick text: “Left in a hurry. Forgot your panties.”

“Lol. Thanks. I’ll grab them later.” 

He sighed and looked at his desk. He had work to do, but he was still sleepy, and now depressed, to boot. He set an alarm for later in the day and went to bed. It was more comfortable than the couch and it smelled like Grace. He wasn’t sure if that would make it harder to sleep or be more comforting. His jaw was killing him, and he knew that was a combination of Shana’s fists and Grace’s thrusts… but it was totally worth the discomfort this morning of having had Grace seemingly satisfied with his oral ministrations a few hours ago. 

He wanted more, of course he did. But, he hoped that she was at least minimally impressed by the fact that he graciously accepted what she was willing to give him. 

It was amazing, for him, actually. Simon hadn’t done that with her before. He chuckled to himself. If he had, maybe he would’ve turned his life around much sooner. He frowned at that joke, even though it only existed inside of his head. But, now he was back to thinking about the reason that she didn’t trust him with her body again. The way he had handled her the first time…

Simon had been selfish. Honestly, he simply used her body to get himself off, bending and moving her in whatever way seemed pleasing to him and because she loved him, she did whatever it took to make him happy… then he just stabbed her in the back. He hated feeling like a broken record, but he could never let go of who he had been back then, and she definitely couldn’t either. If he even seemed to be too close to her face she flinched and moved back. If his hands touched her, no matter how gently, she became irate as she flung them away. She didn’t want anything to do with him, but he was probably very convenient for her. He knew that he had to be fine with that. He had to be fine with her limits, her boundaries, her rules. He wasn’t, but he had to be and he was going to make sure that he seemed to be. “Thank you for allowing me to give you some attention this morning,” he texted. 

She took a moment thinking before eventually just replying, “Welcome.” In another text, she said, “I’m going to be sleeping last night off today. I’ll text you whenever I’m available to swing by.”

“Okay. Sweet dreams.”

“Thanx. Bye.”

.

Grace woke up around 1 pm. That was the latest that she had woken up in years, and not something that she ever did very often. She had several missed calls and texts from her friends. No more from Simon, thankfully, and sadly, none from Hazel. She had numerous notifications from her social media accounts. Most likely birthday wishes. She ordered some food and got ready for the day while she waited for it to arrive. Her legs felt a little bit sore. She had been dancing longer and harder than she did in her day to day last night. And had definitely used muscles she didn't usually at Simon's. So, she rubbed some oils into her muscles and stretched everything out.

While she ate, she checked all of her messages. All the girls wanted to know how she was today and Chapa was especially concerned (her friend from Julliard), so she messaged her first, since she hadn’t been there for the end of the night, then she decided to just go live, as it was easier than addressing everyone individually. 

“Hey, everybody. Forgive me for looking homely today. I traded in the beauty rest for an amazing time last night. I just wanted to show everyone my face and give thanks for all of the birthday wishes, as well as all of the concerned messages of friends who saw me get a little wilder than normal last night. Special thank you to my friends who celebrated with me and to those who wanted to celebrate with me but just couldn't. You’re all so very amazing…” She read a few of the incoming comments basically reassuring her that she was indeed still exceptionally beautiful, congratulations on having a fun birthday, and belated birthday wishes. Then, someone asked, "Did you see Simon for your birthday?" 

“As a matter of fact, I DID see Simon on my birthday. He was a total gentleman and got me some really nice gifts.” 

Then, the comments became a sea of interest in Simon, her relationship status with Simon, questions about his gifts, thoughts on whether or not she should entertain gifts or visits from him, and she ignored them to conclude, “Well, I just wanted to check in with everybody. I will be seeing the people that I planned on seeing today and I hope all of you have a wonderful rest of your day. Quote of the Day: I will hold myself to a standard of Grace, not perfection.” She winked and ended the video.

She noticed that Simon “loved” it, and she continued eating and went to scroll his page. He did one birthday post that had all of the photos of her receiving her gifts from him, but it also had this LONG ASS caption that she only skimmed through, seeing it was basically more of his groveling - claiming that she was the most perfect person in the world and that he didn’t deserve her to ever forgive him nor did he expect them to ever be on good terms again, but he was really grateful that they could be the way that they are and every pinch of her energy given to him was more than he had earned, etc. 

She avoided the comments, but accidentally saw one person say something along the lines of, “She might as well just forgive you and take you back if she’s going to be around you at all.” There was a long thread beneath it and she was curious, but didn’t check. She willed herself not to check. 

She went to check Hazel’s page and saw the video of Hazel preparing birthday breakfast, a post of selfies of the two of them before school that day and one that she snapped of Grace about to cry with the caption, “This is the face of a person with no life. It’s just a few days, Mother!” Grace sniffled even looking at the photos of them. 

“I miss my baby,” she whimpered, before calling Lucy’s mother to ascertain that there had been no problems or needs to be discussed. After she was done, and tossed her trash out, she sat on her patio, looking at her neighborhood and being reminded very much that she indeed did not have a life, as Hazel had suggested twice in two days.

She called Simon. “Hello.” He sounded… not well.

“Hey. When’s a good time for me to stop by?”

“I’ll be here all day. I don’t have anything to do, as I don’t know anything about the city yet.”

“Okay. Well, I’m gonna leave right now, and depending on traffic, shouldn’t take too long, since I’m…” She paused. “Not too far away right now,” she said. He scoffed or laughed. She couldn’t tell, but it annoyed her. “There a problem, Simon?”

“Nope.” She squinted her eyes and sighed. “See you,” he said and hung up on her. 

“There’s a fucking problem,” she said, shaking her head. Maybe she could go to Brooklyn and grab Shana and/or Iza. Damita lived in the Bronx… that was closer to where Simon currently was, but she was at school right now. Tulip was at work and Mikayla was likely doing something else, because she was always busy with something… And if she told Chapa that she slept there, lord… the backlash… Ugh. She got up and just sent a message to the group text that she was going to go pick up something from Simon’s and that he was acting funny on the phone. If anything did happen, they all knew his information. But, she hated that she was sexual with someone just hours ago that made her feel the need to even take such precautions, and she hated that she decided to do that. Nobody forced her to, or pressured her to.. UGH! 

.

The front door was open whenever she pulled up to the house, but she still rang the doorbell. Who knew what might set him off today? Simon came to the door with Samantha in one hand and her underwear in the other. He sort of shoved it towards her, and whenever she took it, he offered the fakest ass smile that she had ever seen him make. “You’re in a bad mood,” she said, accusatory. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, then slumped his shoulders, “Is it obvious? Sorry. It’s been a bad day.”

“You gonna be alright?” 

“Of course. I always am.”

She started to leave, but paused and turned around, “Does it have anything to do with me?”

“No!” he answered quickly and shook his head. 

“Okay… well… I feel like you’re taking it out on me, whatever it is and I don’t like that.”

He looked absolutely devastated by that. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to take anything out on you… He set Samantha down and came outside, closing the door behind him. “I know that what happened between us was a one time thing and we’re not lovers or friends, so the last thing I wanted to do was bother you with my problems. I tried to just not say anything about them.”

“It’s fine to say that you don’t want to talk about something, instead of these short answers and moody tone, making me rethink even a one time casual engagement with you.”

He sighed again, “Okay. I’m sorry.” He sat down on the steps and she sighed and sat next to him. 

“What is it?”

“I didn’t sleep well. I haven’t heard back from the company about the position. I was denied a grant that I need for a really important project, and I spent more than a reasonable amount of time arguing with people on the internet.” He rocked his legs. “And now, I’ve let my day affect yours… which is just… the thing I hate the most of everything that I just said.”

She reached out for his hand and he looked down at their fingers, intertwined. She didn’t say anything or even look at him. They both were just looking at their hands, woven together, saying nothing. Eventually, she got up, said, “Hope you feel better,” and left. And… he did. He felt inexplicably better. 

.

Grace barely let Hazel breathe when she got back home. She was asking about how much fun she had (updates that she had been given daily), seeing if Hazel wanted to do a lot of other stuff (despite the fact that they had a very full weekend ahead of them), and Thursday evening, whenever Hazel appeared in her doorway while she was at the vanity oiling her scalp, Grace smiled, eager to see what Hazel wanted to do with her right now.

“Hey… So… Is it just gonna be you and me this weekend?”

“Yes! We’re gonna have so much fun!” Grace cheered. “I can’t WAIT for corn dogs at the amusement park.” Hazel came in and sat beside Grace on the little bench in front of her vanity. “Are you okay, Hazel?”

“Are you?” Hazel wondered. Grace was confused. “It was my first time away and I guess I thought it would be a good break for both of us, but you spent a lot of time checking up on me and… aside from your birthday, did you have any fun? Did you even have any fun on your birthday?”

“Yes, I had fun. I had more fun than should’ve been allowed.”

“I keep thinking about the tour you and Simon gave me and the stuff you two told me. I’m the same age that you were when you met. You were having so much fun and doing so many things with your friend… now, all you do is take care of me, and barely give me the chance to take care of myself.”

“Hazel, you have to understand, the stuff that Simon and I were doing was because we were both highly neglected. We were retelling stories of how we came together to make bad situations a little bit better. I don’t ever want you to feel neglected, so I make sure that I’m here for you, whenever you need me.”

Hazel nodded, and clasped her hands together, “I get that. But, also… before we lived together, I used to see you on social media having a great time and living so carefree. You had activities and friends. I feel like I’ve taken a lot of that away from you and…"

"It's my job. It's my job to take care of you. Not the other way around, Hazel. Don't worry about what things I don't do anymore." 

"I wouldn't, but it's hard not to think about it whenever you're being all… I don't know…" she didn't want to say the wrong thing. She wasn't trying to hurt Grace's feelings, but Grace was perhaps putting way more into this than Hazel needed.

"Ok. I get it. Just try to understand, I didn't have a good example of how much time a mom should give. I had faceless nanny after faceless nanny. Driver after driver whose names I've forgotten completely. Detached professional instructors and private school staff who could care less about my well-being. I'm trying to be the opposite of what I had and I guess in my quest to be a good mom I wound up not being one…"

"You ARE a good mom. You just need to also be good by yourself." Hazel twiddled her fingers, "I wanted to see if Lucy could come to the amusement park with us, but I didn't want you to feel bad."

"I won't. Call her up and see if she can come," Grace said, smiling but literally feeling horrible. Hazel rushed to go do that and Grace looked at an alert from her phone. It was artwork that someone did and tagged her and Simon to. "Grace as the Idol Princess." Really nice artwork. She liked it and continued her hair.

Lucy wouldn't be able to come this weekend. Hazel was upset, but still excited for the outings. Grace felt like her secondary plan, but brushed that aside. Whenever she went to bed, she saw a notification that Simon had gone live. She laid down and tuned in, catching him in the middle of a point about never being good enough to be forgiven. "And, I understand perfectly in instances nowhere I was completely in the wrong, for instance, everyone who follows me knows everything I did to Grace, but I didn't do shit like that to my mother, and even what I did do… how is that not her fault? How is she mad at me for something I did when she left me unattended? That was thirteen years ago. So… no. Don't tell me that I should be forgiving of her because she's sick or because of her problems or whatever else. My mother is part of the reason I became a person who could hurt Grace. My parents were majority stockholders in me being an unforgivable piece of shit to her. I don't care about what they were going through and I'm not going to explain that again."

She typed into the comments, "Wtf is going on?" 

He noticed it and ran a hand through his hair, "Hey, Grace. Just… still arguing with people on the internet. Explaining myself like a peasant," he joked, laughing. 

"CALL. ME." She typed. 

He stared at the screen for a while, then just cut off the video. But, seconds later, he was calling. "Simon… what happened?"

He groaned, "There was this entire debate about how you should just forgive me instead of us going back and forth, so I said that you're not obligated to trust me and it became this entire thing and somehow devolved into me forgiving my mom, especially because she's dying."

"What the fu… your mom is dying?"

"Yeah," he said casually. "She has very late stage cancer from a brain tumor." 

"WHAT? Since when?"

"I think she found out a couple of months ago? She told me in Belize, but my dad had made this post about it before then. I’m not sure why I thought you knew.”

“If I had known, I would have said something nice to you… or something.”

He chuckled, “I don’t need something nice… unless it’s you.” He smiled. She could hear the smile.

“Well, if you want that, it would take a whole lot more than you eating me out one night. You’ve got things to atone for, Buddy.” She laughed, but he was quiet for a moment. So quiet that she thought he might have gotten disconnected. But, he eventually spoke again.

“I’ll do anything.”

She smiled as wide as her face would allow and she simply whispered, “Worship me.”


	29. The Altar of Grace

“Worship me,” Grace whispered, smiling. Hazel walked back into the room and she hung up the phone and set it aside. Simon didn’t call back. The commandment sounded final for the conversation. The challenge, hardly one at all. He did that every single day. With the exception of when he was at his sickest, backsliding, they would call it in the church - a problem that his mother often saw herself as having when she was younger, because she refused to ever acknowledge that maybe her problem wasn’t spiritual. She gave up even trying after they lost Hope. 

The Laurent family lost Hope, and Faith followed shortly after. But Simon? He found Grace. He was more used to the concept of grace than she was. The only time her family ever stepped foot in a church was for political reasons or at the very least public opinion. The little that Grace knew about any of that was stuff that she’d seen in media, and stuff that Simon had programmed inside of him. She’d once joked that he was going to start an Apex megachurch (there were megachurches all over California, and he had grown up in a church house), but the way that his mind went from outlining a few ground rules for the Apex to taking his knowledge of church legislature and formatting a very religious like experience in both praxis and adherence made her let the joke die off fast.

The Apex had been no joke to Simon. It had been, for lack of better comparison, his megachurch. At the center was Grace, and he worshiped at her altar, spreading the gospel of the Apex, the gospel of Grace. He wasn’t just making things up, in his mind. He was just telling others of his vision, of the world at her feet, of himself at her feet. The Bible often spoke of grace, but Simon was never sure of it before her, and once he was sure, his mind easily melded together the concept of grace with the incarnation that was Grace. She hadn’t asked for it. She was born into what she was. She had never really seemed to care one way or another about all of her faithful followers, the mass he organized at school, the branches of his discipleship that spread far and wide online. She had only ever cared about her chosen one. He was that. The one at the right hand of the throne of God, herself.

Grace’s commandment wasn’t unclear, nor was it new to him. It was simply her paraphrasing the Word of God, that he had always been familiar with to some extent. He had memorized verses in his youth. He had heard prayers throughout his life. He knew what she meant. He told her that he would do anything. Threw himself at her mercy to beg forgiveness. He was ready for her to give him his punishment, to give him his instruction, and her response, whether she realized it or not, was one wrapped up in the grace the preachers always spoke of. Because she gave him no punishment, just something that came as naturally to him as breathing - worship me… and she would give him what he was requesting… herself, which was everything he needed.

Sure, one could argue that this was the temptation of Satan. “All this I will give you, if you bow down and worship me.” Simon never believed in Satan. He didn’t really believe in God, either. But, the programming, the ritual, the practices… those were ingrained in him. He simply needed something to sit in the throne of his heart. He could see her there, as clearly as if she were in an actual throne… The was going to MAKE her an actual throne! 

Simon sat his phone down and went back to his workspace.

.

The weekend with Hazel was exactly what Grace needed to rediscover her equilibrium as single mother, independent woman, career lady, etc. Hazel was exhausted, but Grace was revived. Did she wish that she could still go for spontaneous jogs and not have to worry about leaving Hazel for a little bit? Sure, but she had an in home dance studio that she could work off just as much… toxicity. Simon hadn’t contacted her again. But, he was posting every day.

She wasn’t checking, but someone still to this day insisted on tagging her to things or sending her things. Some of these people HAD to make backup accounts, because no matter how many people her social media reps blocked for that, they continued coming. It was actually a few weeks later that she got a call from her contact assistant. She was in the middle of rehearsals for her next music video, as she was planning to finally release an album during her 23rd year. “Yes, Ma’am?”

“Hey, Grace… I don’t know how else to word this but to say that I’ve gotten several calls to ask you about Simon Laurent’s current… situation and it seems like one of his worst meltdowns yet.”

“What? I JUST saw and talked to Simon a few weeks ago for my birthday and he was fine. Although… his mom is dying, so he may be taking that harder than he wants people to know. Just, send them the statement that Simon and I aren’t close enough that I know what is happening with him at all times, but hopefully he will receive the help that he needs in this instance, just as before.”

“Of course that’s my general answer, but there are some very specific concerns that I believe would matter a little more to you.”

“Like?” Grace asked, worried. If Simon had done something violent, or mean, or explosive, she was ready to cut the cord. She had an album, a child, and her 23rd year, and she was not going to waste as much time as she had in the past on overlooking things.

“Well… The first one is the hashtag The Apex Resurrected… it makes people think that you and Simon are mending things, which many people have thought for months, ever since his birthday in California and the family trip in Belize. Now, there are others coming out with accounts of having seen you two in the Bronx for your birthday - the elevator incident at the club, a few crude videos of you… um… dancing with him that night… and now this, weeks later.”

“The Apex Resurrected? I actually haven’t had anything to do with the Apex in a very long time. The Apex became Simon’s and as far as I knew, it was still a thing amongst the stans. You can release the statement that I don’t know anything about that, nor am I interested in learning.”

“Got it. Next cause for concern - He seems to be collecting various professionals in the Apex, or old Apex, or whatever it is for various tasks. Architecture, and other things. He has been making announcements about making a throne, about worshipping you, and about how he backslid…”

Grace bit her lip, “Okay… I may know something about that. Okay. Ummm… I’ll talk to him about it. What else should I be on the alert about?” 

“He’s buying a place in Riverdale.”

“Did he get the job?”

“Nothing that I’ve found mentions his job, but that he is buying a house. Grace… That’s not that far from East Village… Is it possible that he knows where you are?”

“No. I’ve been extremely careful and Hazel has too, to not mention things that may give way to our neighborhood. But, he was staying in Riverdale a few weeks ago whenever he was here around my birthday, so maybe he just liked it.”

“Well, he’s been speaking about researching if he can grow hazel trees in New York, because he apparently wants those trees on the property, specifically.”

“Okay, that’s a little concerning, maybe.”

“Moreso whenever he begins to poll followers to ask what type of accommodations they would suggest for child quarters for a female presenting child between the ages of 10 and 13.”

“Okay, no. That’s very concerning.”

“People are speculating that the two of you are moving in with him, or at the very least will frequent his home.”

“Shut it down with a simple ‘I didn’t even know that he had found a place in New York.’ We don’t need to tell anyone about Hazel and I being secretive about our neighborhood, as that will probably make people more curious and for all I know, there are Apex people sprinkled around here. Give me a moment to call him, then I’ll call you back for further updates.”

Grace took a deep breath and called Simon. “Grace! I’m so happy to hear from you! I was afraid that I wasn’t doing enough.”

“Simon… from what I’ve heard, you’re doing way too much, Dude. What’s uh… what’s going on, on your end?” He held the phone for a while, confused. “Simon?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Grace. I don’t understand the question.”

“Okay. Well, my rep called me to say that she’s being contacted by outlets that are concerned about some of your behavior lately. Are you… okay?”

“I’m better than I’ve been in years! Everything is returning to normal, going back to the way things are meant to be.”

“Well… Now, I’M the one who doesn’t understand. What do you mean by returning to normal?”

He laughed. “Grace. I asked you what I needed to do, and I heard you. You’ve missed it. Your power, your following, your praise… and I am going to give it all back to you. I’m going to elevate you again, the way that I used to, the way I never should have stopped… I worship you. That’s what you told me to do to fix this.” He sounded very desperate, but hopeful. He also sounded like he knew that saying this out loud to her… they had a miscommunication. “Grace.” She was silent, but he knew that she was still there, doubting him, doubting herself. “What’s wrong with it? What’s wrong with worshiping you? In my own way? It never caused us any pain before. That pain didn’t begin until my love was stifled, and twisted in ways that didn’t feel natural. Are you going to tell me that you don’t think about where we might have been if I had just been allowed to love you like I knew how?”

“What you called love became unbearable for me,” she said.

“It won’t this time! You control whether or not I even get to see or talk to you. I just have to be patient. I have to remember that it isn’t about me. I have to thirst for what you’re willing to give me.”

“Simon, that’s extremely unhealthy.”

“I’m never going to have a healthy relationship! My background, my childhood, my conditions… I’m always going to struggle with normalcy and reason. Relationships will always be difficult and strange… But, does that mean that I can never be happy? That you can’t? The things that have made us happy in the past were things that were so extra to everybody else. You’re just as unhealthy as I am, you were just forced to face that sooner than me. That’s why even though you could have any man in the world, probably any woman, if we’re honest, you haven’t let go of me. I’m always with you. Even when we were broken, beyond reasonable repair, both of us kept holding on to all those fragments. We… belong, Grace. We’re family.”

“Simon… Hazel is my family…”

“Too.” he said. “Hazel is your family, too.”

“We can never be what we were, Simon. Worship me… I didn’t mean it like it sounded. I was being playful. Treat me super nice and buy me things. Fool around a little when we both have time… not… rebuilding the poison that we were together.”

“That poison is who we are. Even with help. We're never going to fully get it out of our systems. We just are learning to live with it there. You rush to save me any time you think I need it. I defend you before I even know a full story. That worked for us, for you and I, until I got greedy. I wanted more, when everything was in perfect harmony. I know that now. I won’t do it again.” 

“Simon…”

“I’m making room for Hazel, as well. I’m not trying to take you back or move her aside. I want all of us…”

“In this poison???”

“Unfortunately, Grace… just like us, that kid was born into poison. But, look at how good for her you are, and how good for you she is… And yet… you still hold on to me. Why can’t it be all of us? Working together and healing together? Why can’t I worship you and love Hazel, too?”

“Because I already made the mistake of trusting you and it went miserably! It’s still affecting me, to this day!”

“I know. It maybe always will, just like your parents always will, just like things that will happen between you and Hazel eventually will. Everything in our lives affects us in different ways and I affected you in a really bad way when I knocked you off of your pedestal..”

“It was YOUR pedestal! I never ASKED you to be that person! Then, I had to try to fill shoes that I didn’t even want!”

“But you want them now. Tell me that you don’t want me to faithfully follow you, to do whatever you ask, to atone through my acts for you. Tell me in honesty that you didn’t mean anything by telling me what you told me, and I’ll leave you alone.” They were both silent for a while, then she heard him exhale, relieved. He knew he was right. “Grace… I won’t hurt you again. I swear on everything that we could be together.”

“I’ll… see where you’re trying to go with… whatever you’re doing right now. But, we can’t just go back to normal, Si. Sometimes, just the thought of your face enrages me. Sometimes, I want to visit you JUST to punch you in the gut. We’re not gonna be just okay, even if we work at it.”

“Okay. That’s better than nothing. I had a mom who attacked me every time she saw me. You have no idea what I’m willing to go through to be close to you.”

“Therapy. We should… engage in at least combined therapy, and that’s before jumping to any conclusions that we’re going to be friends again or whatever. Also, I need to talk to Hazel, to see how she feels about you and even the idea of us reconciling to restore friendship for real.”

“She approves,” he said. “She thinks her mom OUGHT to be worshipped.”

“I know you didn’t talk to my baby about this.”

“I asked her for your hand in worship.”

“Ugh. STOP TALKING. I’m gonna… give you a little bit of space while I speak to Hazel and my team.”

“I’m going to continue what I was doing.”

“Are you… sure you’re okay?”

“I feel like you’re trying to ask me about my mental health. I’m fine. I’ve started even seeing a grief counselor that my therapist suggested, for the situation with my mom. I’m going to ask him about a couple’s therapy plan, since that’s important to you. My most recent meds are agreeing with me. I promise… I’m not having an episode, just further epiphany. I want you to have what you were content to have before… do you remember?"

"No. I barely remember my order at my favorite Ethiopian food place."

"You had a wonderful person that you loved and wanted to spend all of your time with.” She vaguely remembered that conversation now. It had been so many years… She didn’t know if she remembered the feeling. She remembered that she had been honest that day, but she honestly couldn't even place herself in the headspace of her 15 year old self. Of… 10-20, even. She had a rebirth at some point. That Grace was dead, as far as she knew and realized… but… she dared to presume, and hoped to guess… maybe that Simon was dead too. The things that they went through still happened, but only in an anecdotal retelling. The man on the phone… she HAD shared a portion of life with him, as well. A sit down, a death scare, recalling their past, birthdays, a sexually gratifying (less traumatizing) entanglement… He was correct. She hadn’t been able to let him go. There was no way to explain it, but if she was going to latch on anyway, they might as well make the most of it.

“Are you in New York?”

“Yeah.”

“Same place as before?”

“No, that was a rental, but same neighborhood.” She could tell he was smiling.

“IF my talk with Hazel when she comes home from school goes in your favor, we’ll stop by with a housewarming present.”

“I would like that.”

“IF Hazel feels safe with it.”

“You’re a lot more afraid of me than Hazel is,” Simon said.

“I’m older and wiser than her.”

“Ehhh… Definitely older.”

“WOW! What part of worship is you roasting me?”

“You told me that your definition is be super nice, get you stuff and go down on you whenever you want… so… I feel like I can make fun of you whenever appropriate.” She blushed. “But, you’re wise. Just… maybe not as wise as Hazel.”

“Speaking of… the trees and trying to set up quarters or whatever… that’s a bit much.”

“I don’t think it is. If we’re going to be establishing a new normal, she’ll have to have as much space in my home as she does in her own. When have you ever known me to half ass something important? You and Hazel are important.”

Grace held the phone tightly. It… mattered that he said that. Regardless of her reservations, of his probable episode, and the sheer amount of nonsense that her rep told her was happening. It mattered that he told her that she was important. That they were.

.

Hazel and Simon seemed to have been plotting on her. Hazel was a little too comfortable with the thought of them “being friends” with Simon, with the thought of group therapy, home visits and the like, and her saying, “I’ve lived life as a turtle. I don’t think Simon’s episodes are any more peculiar than that,” only made Grace feel guilty about her immediate thoughts - that Simon was having some type of meltdown. 

Now that she thought about it, those usually began with him feeling very bad, but that 16th birthday party… that particular whatever it was began with a similar mood - Simon hearing what he wanted to hear, doing too much for her, being very excited about things that had NOT been promised to him. “This is the 16th Birthday Party level meltdown!” Grace said, when it occurred to her. “Abort!” She said. 

Hazel looked around the shop and then at her, “Abort buying Simon a housewarming gift?”

“Yes! We… are gonna ghost him!” 

“No… We’re not gonna ghost him, because that will take a 16th Birthday Party level Simon and send him into a Pre Hospital level Simon.”

“I just…”

“Grace, do you think that I’m ever going to stop turning into a turtle?”

“Yes. You do it less and less as time goes on.”

“But, what if I don’t? Will you stress out and worry and treat me like there’s no hope?”

“Hazel, that isn’t the same thing.”

“Simon had some type of psychosis going on whenever you two were going through that. He’s spoken about visions of the Void, and you know for a fact that some of the delusions that he projected had no prompting from you. But, he’s been in therapy for a few years and on meds, and doing everything that he can to make amends and clear your name. I know that he’s the one who messed it up in the first place, but look…” She took Grace’s hand and traced a scar on it. “I look at this a lot.” 

“My old scar?” Grace asked, chuckling. 

“My old bite mark,” Hazel corrected her. “You never seem to think that I’ll bite you again. Simon was doing bad and you don’t have to forgive him or trust him, but if you never will, you should tell him that, not ghost him. And if you won’t forgive him or trust him, it would be better to return to the format of a clean, easy break. What do you think of this hedgehog planter?”

Grace smiled, “I don’t think that fits Simon.”

“I meant for me. He’s really cute. I can put some herbs or a little succulent in there…” 

.

Eventually, Hazel decided on a mini lamp shaped like a white cat. It didn't look like Samantha, but she liked it for her anyway. Grace bought an attachable bidet. Simon was at home, shirtless, in some pajama bottoms and slippers that looked like wolf feet whenever he heard the door. He threw on a tanktop and opened up. “Happy Housewarming!” Hazel cheered. She was holding a gift bag with tissue paper stuffed in it and she pushed it forward.

“Thank you, Hazel!” Simon said. He accepted it and Hazel walked in, immediately going to Samantha so that she could come see the gift too. Simon and Grace were staring at each other. He turned towards Hazel, “Wow… this is a really cool lamp. It’s gonna go well with things too, because everything in here will be white or earth tones. Like the rental, but like… MY style stuff. I’ll give you a tour.” There were boxes still unpacked in each room, all labeled as the room that they were. The only thing set up so far was his workspace, bed, and master bathroom. But, he told them some of his plans for other space and rooms… and he really HAD thought of everything that Grace would have tried to think of if making space for herself or Hazel… even if she WASN’T planning on them ever living here. Hazel was excited about the prospect of a “second home.” ‘WE should help you throw a proper housewarming!” Hazel cheered. 

“Who would I invite to that?” Simon wondered.

“Grace’s friends!”

“No!” Grace and Simon both said, then laughed. 

“My friends, then… and their parents,” Hazel said. Simon looked to Grace for confirmation. She shrugged her shoulders. “In the event that Grace does not have an opinion on the matter, the natural response should be to seek out my opinion.”

“Okay. Then, you do that, then.” He smiled and leaned against the counter as Hazel started speaking of her decorating plans and other party details.

“You are going to unleash a monster,” Grace said.

“You’re one to talk. She was spoiled whenever I met her. I’m just matching the kid’s energy. What’s that?” He nudged his head.

“Oh! It’s a bidet. Didn’t know if you had one or not…”

“I do not and I do need one, so thank you!” He accepted it and set it aside. 

“So… Can… we maybe move her tea set here? You’ve got A LOT more space than my place and it isn’t so far away that it’d be a huge jump to host her tea parties here, if that’s okay?” Grace looked at Simon and saw him processing this question. He looked like he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but also couldn’t shield his excitement.

“Hazel is perfectly welcome to move her tea party set here and her friends are welcome to throw them here, as well.”

“I’ll be here. It won’t be like… me leaving her with you.”

“That’s even more fun,” He said. “Do you need me to rent a moving truck to get it here?”

“No… I’ll handle that part.” So… there was still a level of distrust. But, this was still very big for him and he was going to count his blessings. “Come on, Hazel! We’ll be back around.” 

“Bye, Simon! Thank you for the amazing quarters!” He walked them outside and to the car. Grace was reluctant to hug him or anything like that, but she smiled and wished him good night. Simon watched her drive away and looked up at the stars. It didn’t matter if anybody was there or nobody was. Hazel and Grace had made a decision to give him a chance. He didn’t know yet what, but he wasn’t going to let either of them down.

_Whenever Grace and I were younger I used to give her tribute. That was what it was called. It started really simple. She defended me against some bullies and after we took care of them, I snatched a couple of things, as souvenirs for her. Then I just continued to do that all the time. I began to do it on a daily basis. I convinced others to do it too. It was never an obligation. She didn't ask me to give her something. She didn't demand that others paid her tribute. I made a conscious decision that she was worth that offering. I spread word to others about it. It was an act of worship. I built her altar with my own hands. I molded her believers with my words. If you asked me back then she owed me everything._

_Fortunately now I know better. I'm older, I like to think I'm wiser. It was always I who owed her. I owed her for defending me. I owed her for befriending me. I owed her for lowering herself to my level, even if she just did it so she wouldn't be alone. I thought too much of myself. Convince myself that I deserved everything that she had been gracious enough to give me. I didn't appreciate the value of my riches in Grace._

_Life has a way of working things out that aren't meant to be. I was never meant to be the king. Always the servant… Trusted, certainly. But there for the sake of the one who mattered the most. I did everything in my power to be on top. When something isn't meant for you, you can't take it away from someone else. In the process of flying too high, I made myself have to fly solo. Grace had been the wind beneath my wings that made me fly as high as I was flying. Without her there I fell. I crashed._

_She was too busy trying to keep herself elevated. She didn't even really witness it - the way that life gave her back what she deserved while I plummeted. She moved on to things on her level. She had chosen me to come with her. I tried to replace her. Now she's soaring, and all I can do is watch from the ground. Proudly, certainly. But forever with the knowledge that I was once next to her, that I could have stayed there had I not tried to snip her wings…_


	30. I Consent

Whenever they had a chance to be together, she was pretty restrictive of what he could and couldn’t do. He felt almost like he was being trained for her pleasure... which was frustrating on some of his more needy nights, but any other time pretty hot because... well... she was Grace. Others didn’t stand a chance even being able to get a whiff of her and she would put it right in his face, sometimes allowing him to do something about it, sometimes seeing if he can follow rigid directions in a position like that. It made her smile, therefore, he enjoyed it to a certain degree. He kinda liked the torture at times. It was familiar to self harm, but in this instance, he actually got a treat sometimes, and the denial that he got at other times made for his longing to intensify. 

But, he had hurt her in the past and now she had to reassure herself that he respected all of her boundaries, even those that seemed unreasonable. He needed to confirm if he was capable of seeking out her affirmative consent, or if he was simply playing along with some games in order to get sweet satisfaction. If it were the latter, he was going to have to really work for it. She had already decided on at least a 3 month probation period, meaning he did not even pull his tool out for that long and she would reevaluate on Christmas Eve whether or not they were in a place of going further than her current boundaries.

Sometimes, he wondered if her boundaries were real, or if she set them up just to test him. 

Either way, he was settling into his new position at work, managing a project that had been his baby for YEARS, and also able to set aside time to set up his workshop for his hobbies. 

Buying a big house was something his father advised him against, considering the cost of living in New York, the fact that he was “fickle,” and probably wouldn’t want to stay in New York once Grace was “done with him,” and that he wasn’t rich. Simon could afford the house that he bought. He wasn’t Monroe rich, but he did okay for himself considering his drawbacks and he was doing better all of the time. As his skill and success grew, so did his salary. He was confident that he wouldn’t harm himself with the purchase and comfortable about the size of it, because different moods needed different spaces. 

His workspace was specifically for working, with his desk with three laptops and all of the work things associated with it. He had his little home “lab” in the same room. Lab tables and equipment for projects and various prototypes were set on the workstation and there were cabinets of supplies and stock for various technological needs.

His study was a miniature library of sorts (he didn’t have a lot of physical copies of books, as most of those were available electronically), but he did have some - important ones that changed his life, ones he had written, ones he had been given as gifts, ones he had from when he was little, etc… and his reading nook was there, as well as his writing desk. 

His workshop would be mostly for his crafts. He designated the closet in there for his work tools - for house work and yard work and such, and the rest of it was going to be for all of his figures, whether wood or robotics. He had been jealous of his dad’s garage for a time, the way that everything was set just like he liked it and he had that space to himself just to delve into his model building. Simon determined at an early age, he’d have a designated space for his own passions too.

All of those rooms were set in different areas of the house, near the back. In fact, one had to pass by his study to get to the back porch… which was very big, and the backyard was even bigger. Grace used to indulge him when they were younger, and jokingly say, “I’d better stop spoiling you or you’ll get used to champagne taste.” The unspoken being understood by him - that he didn’t have the income for such taste. Instead of discouraging his tastes, it inspired his drive. Grace would always credit his good traits to, “Well, you’re a Leo-Virgo cusp. Of course you’re virtually perfect.” Simon didn’t buy that. Simon’s perfectionism was because he knew that he needed to be the best at everything that he was good at to be seen as worthy in those areas and to be taken seriously and ultimately be ahead of the curve for all of them. That was why he focused just as much on writing as he did building figures. That was why he focused just as much on engineering as he did writing. That was why he focused just as much on business skills as he did engineering. 

So, that despite the fact that he was not an ambassador’s kid, he could still hold his own when they were together. Course, Grace was focused on other things at the moment. He made a conscious decision to check in with her every day to see if she needed/wanted anything, if there was something aside from that he could do for her or Hazel, and just to see how she was faring. 

She was generally too busy, as she was working on her upcoming album release, and also mothering. Hazel was generally very close by or with her. She had a nanny, but Grace was very adamant about the nanny just being an extra pair of hands and eyes while she was busy, and not “a stand in mommy,” which… that couldn’t happen anyways, with the way that she tended to hover. Hazel had tried to talk to her about it, but Grace just didn’t know how to ease up. For that reason, Hazel was DELIGHTED that Grace was so busy with album business. 

She loved her and enjoyed their time together, but she really just wanted to breathe sometimes. She wanted an adventure sometimes that didn’t involve her mom. That didn’t much include meeting celebrities like musicians, singers, dancers and such… because as cool as that was, Hazel wasn’t that interested in those types of celebrities. However, she DID love the fact that she was on a first name basis with Shana, because she loved her shady videos and the way that she made news fun, as Shana didn’t just dish out trash… she was an actual journalist and spoke on current events and world issues. She was an activist and a public figure and more than the gossip persona the public generally associated her with. And, she let Hazel use bad words whenever she was with her.

But, Hazel really liked whenever she was able to meet authors, particularly ones that wrote sci fi and fantasy. As far as she was concerned, aside from Grace, the most impressive celebrity that she had met was Simon. He wasn’t as popular as he had been a few years ago, staying out of the limelight these days and slowly getting back into publishing work, but the first Book of Esmoroth had sentimental value to her. It got her through a lot of bad real life and let her escape to a world where harming children was punishable by death and the only adults ever mentioned either served or helped the children. That was a very nice fictional place to go whenever most of the adults in her real life had been absent or weary from her. Plus, she would have a hand in the future publications of the series and that was a great feat FOR HER. Simon had even put her name in the credits of Book 2 and told her that he was dedicating it to her.

“For Hazel, seen only as a child when she really is a beacon of wisdom and reflection. The Throne of Esmoroth shall be yours someday.” That was WONDERFUL! THAT was gonna be published soon!! 

She also liked that Simon was always available. She knew that it was because he wanted to impress her mom, but it was nice to have access to the one person who understood some of her less public ways a little bit more AND wanted to be on Hazel’s good side. Most of Grace’s friends were close enough that they knew her and got her (most of them knew her better than Simon, at this point in life), but they also were Grace’s friend first and Hazel’s associate second. They might see a need to tell Grace some of the stuff that she said, out of concern or duty or whatever. Simon… often struggled with that. 

Hazel could call him and tell him about kids at school and not have to worry that Grace would get a text and want to speak with the administration about things or worse - to the other kids’ parents. She could tell him when Grace was getting on her nerves and he would laugh about it and rarely ever reminded her that she was trying her best and a good mommy (she KNEW that. She didn’t need people telling her that. She needed to vent on the days that Grace was TOO much of a mommy). Turned out that while Hazel and Simon were very different types, they were similar in some ways that made them connect a little bit easier than she could with someone who was her parent. 

Of course, nobody would ever be as close to her as Grace and she could never love anybody more, even if she tried. At this point in life, Grace could probably leave her under a bush, and she’d spend the rest of her life trying to get back to her. She groaned at that thought. That was another thing that she could talk to Simon about and he understood it better than anybody else that she had ever met… that fear that maybe one day she would casually lose the most important person in her life. Maybe to her career, maybe to a love interest. Maybe to being tired of playing mommy… She had a very real and sometimes paralyzing fear of losing Grace. Simon understood it and always comforted her. That was when she DID need to hear what she already knew: Grace would never turn her back on you. If she ever accidentally put anything else first, she would fix it. What would not happen is that something would make her decide to ignore you or turn you away. Nothing is more important to Grace than you. And I should know. I used to be where you are. But, I messed that up. You’re really lucky. She loves you even more than she ever loved me.

“That’s not really true, you know… I was around when she was trying to get over you. I was around when she still loved you. After you hurt her… she still loved you. She learned to heal herself after being hurt, but you hurting her didn’t make her stop loving you.” 

He needed that too. He had been told so much by Grace before, but it just felt more genuine coming from a kid who hadn’t technically been affected by those events. He knew that Hazel had no reason to say anything but what actually happened/what she believed from her observations.

So, while Grace focused on her career, Simon built his life in New York, and Hazel got used to the other person who she had come to respect a lot. She and Grace stopped by for the tea parties, as the tea table and stuff were there. Lucy and Lindsey liked Simon’s house… mostly the fact that it had a yard. Lucy lived in a penthouse condominium and Lindsay lived in a brownstone with nothing more than a stoop and sidewalk outside. Simon found it a little bit funny that these rich girls didn’t have yards, but after thinking about how happy it made them (so happy that they usually forsook the tea party to play outside in the yard), it made him sad. THEY didn’t care about the brownstone or the condos… those were parental decisions that deprived them of playing out in a yard, even though their families could afford to…

“What are you thinking about?” Grace wondered, from the cushioned back porch swing that she was reading a book on while the tea party table sat next to her, abandoned by girls throwing fall leaves at each other. It was so damn cold, but Simon had an outdoor fireplace and it was in the perfect spot in proximity to this seat for her to claim it as hers for this event.

“How people try to make space in their world for kids, instead of letting their kids make space in their worlds,” he said. She made a confused face and set her book aside. He glanced at the book, shrugged his shoulders and expounded, “People will plan to have kids or maybe even not plan to, but wind up with them, nonetheless, and they cut out what they imagine to be a child sized space in their world, giving them a percentage of their physical space, a percentage of their mental space, emotional, etc… Then the kids shows up and they’re often larger than life. Some people aren’t able to accommodate it. That’s sad… but it’s sadder when they are able to accommodate it, and they… just don’t..” She frowned. Was he attacking her parenting in some way? Was he saying that she wasn’t doing something for Hazel that she needed to be? She was on the verge of insult when he started crying. “I just… If I would have been a better person… I might have a kid running around with them.” He took a deep breath, then laughed, “I’ll shut up.”

“No… it’s… fine. Do you want to talk about it?” He bit his lip. “I didn’t ask do you think you deserve to be able to talk about it, because I know how you think. You think that everything that you say to me is whining, but I don’t think that. So. Do you want to talk about it? I consent.” he smiled a little and moved closer to her, so that she sat up and they were next to each other with opposing knees pressed against each other. 

“I just… Sometimes, I’m upset that you didn’t tell me, but I also know that at that time, I wouldn’t have cared. I most likely would have responded as atrociously as i did about anything else, and then again, I always wonder, what if I didn’t? What if that could have been just the thing to help me see how fucked up I was and how fucked up I was being? What if knowing about them could have changed me then? Changed us?”

Grace nodded, waiting to see if he had more to say. He seemed finished. “To that, I say this… The way that you treat other people is how they might perceive you. Even if you say that could have changed you, I don’t think for one minute that it would have changed me. My trajectory was already affected by what had already taken place. I didn’t tell you, not only because I didn’t think that it would matter, I didn’t tell you because the flipside of that - that it might matter, that it might make you change, that it might change us… that was even more terrifying. The thought that someone could do the things that you did to me, then I might be faced with signing on to a commitment via a child with them… and just have to believe that they might be okay for us? The shoulda woulda couldas are behind me, because I know that even if I had told you, i still would have had an abortion, and I still would be at peace with that decision today. Because, for who we were and what happened, it was the best decision. It was a decision that in hindsight, I would have found to be the best decision, even if you were a better person. So… if you’re gonna be upset about it, the target is me. Because I would not have had a baby at that time, no matter the circumstances. Hell, I’m 23 and I don’t know that I want to have one now. Maybe 26, but who knows? I could reach 26 and think maybe 36. The thing about it is… that’s not on you. What you did affected me and us, but it didn’t affect that pregnancy or the outcome.”

“If I have a kid, can I name them Ivory?”

She flinched but shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t own the name… But, I’m probably gonna still name my first bio that.” 

He smirked. “They could be the same person…” 

“Yeah right. Kids playing in leaves is giving you baby fever at 23. You’re not gonna wait for whenever I’m ready to start producing one of those.”

“You’ve always struck me as a surrogate type,” he said.

“I absolutely am! Just the thought of the whole body changing, horrific ordeal that is pregnancy, and ultimately labor… just reads like a traumatic horror scene of gore and anguish. Now… I’m willing to pay good money for somebody else to do that, but the actual me doing it myself? I’ve read far too much about the subject matter to just want to. Anyways, they let Black women drop like flies in maternity mishandling all over the country. Someone would have to pay ME to have a baby, at this point.” 

Simon laughed at that thought, then stopped. “I promise, I am not laughing about black women dying in childbirth!”

Now, she chuckled a little, “I didn’t figure that you were…”

“How much would you charge for something like that?” Simon wondered.

“To have a baby? The surrogacy process generally costs 6 figures, Dude. My prestigious womb would be double the usual.”

He laughed and shook his head, “Wow. What if you fall in love? Like… what if you meet someone and you two want a family and you happen to get pregnant? It’s happened before.”

“Yeah, when I was a kid. I don’t have enough sex to facilitate that could happen to me again and if I was already in love and already with someone, they would know and I would know that me squeezing a baby out isn’t a current option, so we’d be placing preventative measures in place!”

“Preventative… So, if you’re feeling extra good with somebody you love and the mood is right and you’re both really feeling it and you have a whole hot night of being pumped full of nut, you wouldn’t be inclined to keep a pregnancy that came about from that?”

“First off, be less gross. Jesus. Secondly… There would be no pregnancy to come about from that, because that’s why scientists created the morning after pill.”

“Good to know. I’m gonna act a fool in there, since it won’t bother you either way,” he said. 

She knocked his knee with hers, “You just bought yourself longer probation.”

“I was joking! Partially…”

“You’re tryin’ to have a night of nutting in my immaculate womb and I’m not gonna give you a free to skeet pass!”

“OH MY GOD!” Hazel shrieked. Lucy was red in the face and Lindsey was cackling. 

Grace covered her face with both hands and Simon said, “That wasn’t what it sounded like… and you all are like… 10-11… it should have sounded like absolute gibberish to you in the first place!” 

“At what age do you think people know these things?” Hazel wondered.

“I don’t know… 13 sounds fine.”

“WHAT? You have to know about pregnancy and insemination as soon as your body is able to produce such things! Meaning, when periods start! Which, for most girls is between the ages of 10 and 16!!” 

“I’m sorry…” Simon said. “This was absolutely my fault. Do I need to call their parents and explain?” He asked Grace.

“They heard ME, not you!” She said. “And… I’m not saying anything unless someone’s mom calls me and asks.” 

Lucy shook her head, “I didn’t hear anything,” she said.

Meanwhile, Lindsay stated, “My mom’s career started in porn.”

Simon was red now, “Okay, well…. None of any of this happened and enjoy the rest of your tea party.” He got up and quickly left. 

Lucy and Lindsay went back to the tea table. “Still hot!” Lindsay cheered, pouring them some from the pot. Hazel folded her arms, looking at Grace. 

“It was a joke… You had to be there. Simon and I aren’t…”

“You’re doing SOMETHING. I can tell…” Hazel said, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Hazel, if something serious transpired between Simon and I, I would immediately talk to you about it, just like I did whenever he wanted us to start hanging out again. Okay?”

“Okay…”

Hazel went back to her tea party and the girls were giggling. She didn’t like whatever they were saying, but she eventually got over it. Whenever their parents stopped by, Grace did explain, “I’m really sorry, my friend and I were having an inside joke and the girls overheard something rather vulgar. I am willing to do whatever needs to be done if that affects her in some way. I just feel so bad that they overheard it.” 

Lucy’s mom wondered what was said, so Grace said it very low to her and she looked scandalized, but she simply sucked it up and begged Grace to try to be more careful next time. Lucy’s father didn’t seem to even know what the words meant. 

Lindsay’s mom didn’t ask, but Grace did say it on the low to her, and she laughed it off and said that Lindsay had unfortunately been picked on whenever someone at her old school realised that she was the daughter of Sommar Kittyn, so they had the talk with her when she was around 6, and the rest, the Internet fills in when nobody’s paying attention. Besides, her dad’s a rockstar… she absolutely had overheard her fair share of inappropriate things from their friends. She even gave Grace a no worries hug to accentuate that it was okay.

When they were gone, Grace noticed that Hazel wasn’t with her (probably was too embarrassed to look at them at the moment), and whenever she went inside, Hazel and Simon were speaking quietly, but both shut up whenever they saw her. “Hey… so, I think it’s gonna be okay. Definitely with Lindsay’s folks… hopefully with Lucy’s too… Really sorry about that.”

“You and Simon have been seeing each other,” Hazel said. Simon lowered his head into his hands. “He accidentally told me, because he didn’t know that you’ve been lying to me.”

“I have not been lying and Simon and I are not seeing each other. That’s the thing of it, Hazel. Adults and children have differing ways of dealing with each other and maybe Simon just didn’t really understand the proper way to communicate to you what our friendship is, because there’s not really a child equivalent.”

“I’m not a baby, Grace,” Hazel said. “You two are doing stuff with each other, and that sounds serious to me, for you, somebody who is publicly an ace figure and only recently began to even consider the possibility of perhaps demi… You’re doing stuff… that means your demi is activated!” 

“No. It doesn’t. It means my curiosity is activated and there is someone who I can explore that with.”

“You two were talking about babies earlier.”

“Hazel. It isn’t anything that needs to be shared, at this time. Just some musings, Baby…” Hazel got up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her and locking it. “Did she just?”

“She locked herself in,” Simon said. “I didn’t mean to make a problem. I misspoke.”

“How do you misspeak our situation to a child?”

“I certainly didn’t tell her that you’ve been training me to be an obedient partner.”

“That is not…”

“I only said that we were discussing having babies, but we’re not there in our arrangement yet… and she started trying to ask questions to understand better and all of the answers were accidentally more serious sounding than I meant to…” They spent hours outside of the door waiting (after at least half an hour trying to speak to Hazel about coming out). Eventually, she did and Grace was leaning onto Simon’s shoulder, but jumped up whenever Hazel came out. Simon quickly said, in a very stern tone, “Hazel, don’t do that again. You had your mother worried. She didn’t do anything wrong, and that’s unfair. If you try that again, I will remove the lock, do you understand?”

“Yes, Simon,” she said. 

He sighed and gave her a hug. “You’re entitled to your privacy and your feelings. But, at least let us know that you’re okay. That you haven’t jumped out of the window or passed out or something.” She nodded. Simon left them alone. 

“Hazel...:”

“I don’t feel like talking to you,” Hazel said. At least she was telling her the truth. Grace nodded and they left. Hazel didn’t say anything to her on the way back and Grace didn’t reach out or respond to Simon for days, which Hazel gradually came around to not being mad at her. Things came to a head when Grace was waiting outside of Hazel at school - in the New York November cold, mind you, and she was taking much longer than ever before. Grace consulted the calendar, to see if she somehow forgot that Hazel had tutoring or something. Eventually, she began to call her friends’ moms, to see if she had taken up shelter in one of their vehicles or something and just didn’t see Grace outside. Lindsay nor Lucy claimed to have seen her since school let out. She began to call even kids that she didn’t know as well - Todd, Alex, Louis… nobody knew where that girl was. She walked through the hallways and looked into classrooms, as she called Simon.

“Thank you for gracing me…”

“Have you talked to Hazel today?”

“No. Hazel’s pissed at me. We haven’t talked since tea party night…” Grace started crying. “Grace… what happened?”

“She’s missing! Or… hiding… I don’t know, but I’ve been waiting at her school for over an hour and I don’t see her anywhere!”

“Where is it? I’ll come help you…”

.

Grace was crying the entire time, pacing, tearing herself down and explaining to the staff, the security and the police how their schedule usually goes. Grace always either walks or drives Hazel to school. She parks in a certain place, stands in a certain place. She gave the time range that it usually takes, and explained why she “waited so long” to reach out - because she was confirming. Because Hazel doesn’t just wander off and she had no reason to suspect that she hadn’t mixed this up with math help day or something… They were acting like she had done something wrong and nobody was helping her find her child. 

Eventually, Simon sat her down and offered, “I’ll speak with them, with your consent.”

She nodded her head, “I consent,” she barely choked the words out crying. 

Simon began speaking as patiently as he could through his teeth, about how Hazel was in the care of the school until she walks out of the doors and that there’s staff everywhere and even cameras that they could possibly try to check to see if during the small window of time where she might have vanished, she was caught or seen. He didn’t want to bring it to threats, but he certainly would, if they made him.

After talking for a while, they seemed much more helpful with Simon and eventually advised them to go home and wait, make more calls, consider other familiar places that Hazel might have gone to, and contact them if they still hadn’t heard from her in 24 hours. Grace was a mess. She was crying and trembling. Simon took her home. She absentmindedly told him where it was, not worried about him not knowing, either out of the panic she was in over Hazel or having actually gotten comfortable with him over the past few months. 

Whenever she came inside, she rushed through, calling Hazel’s name and looking for her. Hazel didn’t respond, but she found her on the bathroom floor and she collected her in her arms, “Hazel? Hazel??” She checked her for marks or bruises, or anything else… She saw none. Hazel was a turtle. Grace sobbed and collected her to herself. Her entire body was trembling, but Hazel was safe. She didn’t know how long it might take her to calm down. 

“What’s happening?” Simon wondered. Grace shook her head. She hadn’t explained this to him before, and Hazel probably hadn’t either, because she didn’t like to tell people about it, and it hadn’t happened in a little while. Grace eventually calmed down and Simon remained in the doorway, watching, waiting. 

Hazel’s eyes blinked and she looked at Grace and immediately began crying, “Are you going to give me back now? Now that I’m difficult again?” Grace burst into tears and she picked Hazel up and carried her into her bedroom, set her in the bed and cried more. Simon simply watched. “That’s what happens. First they find more important things. Then, they start to find other people or focus on other people. Then, they wait for me to mess up and they send me back.”

“There’s nowhere to send you back to! THIS is your home!” Grace said. She stood up and asked, “Did… Did you do this on purpose, to scare me, Hazel? Because, that is NOT okay! That’s not how we handle being mad at people. I thought you were gone. I thought somebody took you from me or worse! Don’t you EVER do something like that to me on purpose, EVER again!” She stormed out of the room and Hazel could hear her wailing as she made her way into the bathroom to collect herself. 

Hazel started crying. She wasn’t used to Grace fussing at her. To her, that was even more of a sign of what would happen. Grace was gonna give her up. They always gave her up after a while. She had tested to see if Grace cared. She dodged her, made her way back home on her own, but while waiting for her to get home, she panicked. She became a turtle. And now, Grace was mad at her. Maybe, that was an excuse. Maybe Grace was waiting for this, so she and Simon could be together without her. Why else would she have hidden that they had been secretly seeing each other ever since her birthday?

Grace came back into the room, more calm now, and she sat on the bed. Simon was still simply there. 

“Hazel, I need for you to understand how serious what happened today was, okay? One reason it is important to me not to ever leave you alone is because unlike where I grew up, kids go missing here so much more, and when they do… it is usually bad. Someone takes them and makes them a prisoner or uses them for bad things. Sometimes, they die. We live in a good neighborhood, but you wandering off by yourself, I imagined that you could’ve easily wound up in the wrong place, or ran into the wrong person. I don’t ever want anything bad to happen to you and for you to try to scare me into thinking about that is very hurtful, Hazel. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about me and Simon. I thought it was easier to not say anything and get your hopes up, because I know that you really like him and I haven’t been sure that I like him enough for him to be that kind of presence in our life. So, I didn’t tell you. You can be mad at me. Tell me, give me the silent treatment, whatever makes you feel better about me hurting you. But, it is not decent to hurt me by making me scared for your life.”

“I didn’t think about it that way. I’m sorry!” Hazel said, crying. Grace bit her lip and collected her to herself. Hazel cried against her. “I thought you were getting tired of me…” 

“No, no… no… never. I’m hurt and I was scared, but I could never get tired of you, Hazel. Tired of life, maybe, and if I do, guess what? I’ll give up something else. Never you. Never ever you.” Simon finally started to feel intrusive and he slid out of the room and made his way out of her front door. They were okay, now. They didn’t need him. He was getting ready to get into his car whenever he heard his name. Simon turned and Grace was running from the townhouse to him. She threw her arms tightly around him and he hesitated before sinking into the hug. “Thank you… for being here for me.”

“I’m always going to be,” he said. He pulled away and looked at her. She still looked shaken up. “You need me to stick around a little longer?”

“I’m really still pretty shaken up. I can’t explain it. I know that she’s safe, but the after effects, especially not having had one of these episodes in a while… Do you want to stick around and help me with kid and turtle meal preps?"

"You got a turtle?"

"Hazel. Her psychosis... she sometimes thinks she transforms into a life sized turtle. I like to be sure to have some people safe turtle food so that she doesn't go out and eat bugs and grass like she did at her first home."

He was in awe. She blushed and shrugged her shoulders, "Her parents couldn't handle how she was. They dropped her off at an institution, and whenever she seemed okay, she was taken to a foster home. They tried for a short time and brought her right back. That’s what she was talking about in there… Everybody she wanted to trust - They locked her up. She didn't need to be locked up, she needed to be loved."

"Are you projecting?" He asked, trying to ease her nerves a little. She was still shaken up as they headed back across the street.

"Absolutely not. I definitely needed to be locked up."

"Maybe I did too."

"Well you know you could always go ask them to hold you and they'll let you know in 72 hours if you in fact, do. I'll be here for you, either way. You’ve been really trying and I don’t think that I realized just how much until I needed you today and you came through like..." Simon leaned towards her mouth, tempted to kiss her on the lips. She hadn’t kissed him on the lips. It was something that he wanted, but never attempted, as he was generally terrified that she would shut down and go home. He knew where home was now and she was asking him to stay a while. It was as good a time to press his luck as any… and Grace leaned into it. “I consent,” she whispered, letting him fills the space after that confirmation.

"Well, that was a friendship kiss."

"Very platonic affection," and they kissed again… “We’ll tell Hazel tomorrow…”


	31. The One That I Get to Build With

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters have gotten longer as the story winds down, because I have a lot of things that I wanted to fulfill before the end. Truth be told, I could write this story for a really long time as just a series with endless possibilities. I love them like that. But, I'm also a grown ass woman with real life obligations and not enough time to both get everything done and get some rest. But, I appreciate this long journey.

Hazel was less irritated with Grace and Simon when they were honest with her and told her that they were going to be involved in a relationship, but not openly. They didn’t want anyone else to know, mostly because Grace was very secretive and didn’t want the same people who often intruded into her social media to find their way into this relationship, as they attempted to build it.

So, the simple rule was that if someone made a comment about the relationship not to respond to it and if someone asked about it, not to answer. They just moved the conversation right along, like the relationship had not been mentioned. Grace and Simon used to do that all of the time. Hazel, they worried might find it more difficult, but they were counting on the fact that most people who might ask her would be online, where she could easily ignore them.

Simon went to his parents’ for Thanksgiving. Apparently, his dad begged him to , because he was certain that this would be his mom’s last one… Simon guessed that Grace was making him soft, because he couldn’t say no. It felt wrong to just refuse. “You gonna be okay?” Grace asked, the night before his flight.

“Yeah,” he answered, sadly. “I’ll stop by to see your parents, while I’m out there.”

“They’ll probably be at a banquet or something. Hazel and I are going to do some charity and bring some people to shelters, then have dinner together and retire in our jammies to have movie night.”

Simon groaned, “Why do you have to rub that in my face?”

“Don’t complain.” He pouted silently. “You’ll be able to be around for Christmas, if you’re still playing your cards right.”

“I’m never gonna mess this up.”

“Awww. Well… see you when you get back.”

She made sure that was correct, because whenever Simon got back, the Monday after Thanksgiving, Grace was asleep in his bed. He’d given her a key almost as soon as they decided that they were going to give themselves a try, but she didn’t really use it. He was grateful that she had that night. Seeing his family had been enough to make him grateful for what he escaped from. After he washed up, he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her. She stirred to ask him how it went, and when he said he didn’t want to talk about it, she simply rested her head on his chest, kissed his tattooed pec, and went back to sleep. The scent of her hair gave him a comfort that he had forgotten existed the previous few days. This was one of the things he was thankful for, wrapped up tightly in his arms, in his bed.

.

Simon and Hazel decorated his house for Christmas. Really, Simon decorated and Hazel critiqued, but it was “helpful,” for her to tell him everything that he seemed to be doing wrong… for a while. It was actually extremely cold and he didn’t usually spend that amount of time outside in such weather. Plus… the criticism. He wasn’t fond of being criticized, even after years of therapy. Eventually, he told her, “I think I can handle some lights, Hazel. I graduated from MIT.”

Hazel rolled her eyes and told him, “You say that to me and I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean any more than you know what you’re doing with these lights.”

“Hazel…” He said it then took a pause to catch his breath and realign his patience. That was what Grace called it. Realigning your patience. She’d take a look at him and ask, “Do you think maybe you need to realign your patience?” Not to calm down, and not accusing him of getting upset, but asking him to realign his patience and somehow, every time, he got soft and did exactly that. “Good job, Gray Eyes,” and a strum of his ponytail later, he’d be a cool pile of putty for her to mold… But Grace was inside of the house and her little Christmas slave-driver was not the model of invoking patience…

“Gra-a-a-ce!” Simon called out. “GRACE!” He said louder and more short.

She came running outside and immediately checked on Hazel. “What is it? Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“Please, get her cocoa or something,” Simon said. It was given like an order and gave Grace pause, to look at him like he was out of his mind. “Please?” He repeated, softer. “I need to realign my patience and it’s hard to focus in this cold…” She softened up too.

“Come on, Haze,” Grace wrapped an arm around Hazel’s shoulder and guided her inside. Simon got more done now, but he hoped that it looked okay. Hazel had caused some doubts. Eventually, Grace called him and told him to come inside and recalibrate. He groaned, but knew that it was a commandment, not a suggestion. Besides, he was freezing his balls off.

Whenever he walked in, it felt so refreshingly warm. The house smelled like pine, fire, and some sort of candles that Grace had lit all over the opening of the house. Hazel and Grace were in the kitchen. Hazel, seated at the island with an absurdly large mug that her GlamMother got her for winters in New York and a plate of something that smelled remarkable. Grace took his coat and hung it on the rack and gestured at his shoes. He set them on the rack next to the door and she led him to the kitchen. “Since Hazel is a great helper, she helped me to try out my first recipe from a recipe book that I got as an early Christmas present!” She cheered.

Simon didn’t look excited about it. Everyone knew that of Grace’s many talents, the only ones that happened in the kitchen were usually DIY natural beauty products. She gently forced him into the seat next to Hazel and began to excitedly prepare him something.

Simon leaned towards Hazel and whispered, “I’m sorry about losing it out there. Level with me. Should I be worried?”

Hazel smirked and tilted her head, “Are you suggesting that Our Grace can’t follow the instructions in a recipe book, Simon?”

“No… Just… wondering if she can…” Hazel snorted. It didn’t escape his notice that she hadn’t devoured her gingerbread men.

“Okay, SO… Here is a cup of crock pot hot chocolate and…” she turned around with a mug and a plate and it looked vaguely familiar. “Gingerbread Man VS Snowman S’mores…” Simon gasped, recalling being with his Nana dad's mom, before she died and making an entire murder scene with her gingerbread man cookies and the marshmallow snowmen that she was going to melt into the cocoa… he then let out a hearty laugh about that situation.

“I wanted to try to be a good girlfriend for Christmas, so I called your dad while you were away and he shipped me your grandmother’s recipe book that she gave your mom when she passed away. He said that nobody has used it in years. It is SO descriptive! AND… She notated the stuff that each of her kids, grandkids, and their spouses and stuff loved. So… I found all the ones marked “Simon,” bookmarked them, and discovered that you helped her create one of her treats!”

“I can’t believe she recorded that!” He laughed, explaining, “What I did was ruin a bunch of her stuff and whenever they caught me, my dad was ready to give me a spanking, but Nana intervened and asked, “Don’t you see that the boy’s a genius? Why, he just created my new favorite treat!” We took the broken gingerbread cookies and the snowmen, made smores and pretended that it was the after effects of a warzone. She let me tell the story of how they were fighting, because she’d missed out on that part of my game… That was… actually my first creative story that I shared with anybody. So, you actually just gave me a really special gift, because I hadn't considered that historical memory in years.” Grace’s eyes were wide and glossy. Simon stopped laughing to come to hug her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Grace.”

“Don’t thank her yet, you haven’t tasted it,” Hazel teased. She bit off the head of one of the additional gingerbread man cookies that weren’t in the war. It was actually really good! Simon’s grandma must’ve left great instructions, or Hazel was to thank for Grace following through so well with them.

Simon put off the rest of the decorations until the next day. Whenever he finished, Hazel was actually awestruck. The scene? Elves taking the sleigh on a joyride, one of them hanging off of the rails, one on a reindeer's back, one controlling the sleigh and one ducking in it, peeking out.

“How did you do this? How did you do that?” She asked about various aspects of the scene.

“I graduated from MIT,” Simon said, taking a sip of a mug of cocoa with a melting snowman marshmallow in it. Hazel still didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but she now at least respected it.

Christmas Eve at Grace’s was everyone’s wildest dreams come true. At least the three of them. Grace had arranged matching jammies - they weren’t identical, but you know… the same designs/color pattern. They were reindeer themed and she had some for Samantha, as well. Samantha and Hazel had wearable antlers. Simon and Grace had hoodies that “turned them into” reindeer.

They worked on each other’s hair - Grace being exceptionally good at braids now gave Hazel an elaborate celtic braid that she had been wanting for a while, and Simon two French braids. Hazel and Simon bickered over who could be better at doing Grace’s hair and she wound up with one of them on each side, turning her into a lopsided headed hot mess. She took selfies of the act in progress and even went live to show people what she was doing with her Christmas Eve… just because sharing certain parts of her life was fun…

OF COURSE, she anticipated that she might accidentally get a shot of Simon’s face as she did this, but she was careful to try not to. Whenever she DID accidentally do so (or maybe someone heard his voice or Hazel say his name in the background or something), she had plenty of comments to ignore about the matter. But, someone within minutes had already created posts about Simon and Grace in family pajamas and doing each other’s hair.

When she turned it off, she reminded them that they weren’t saying anything about it. But, all of them had their own photos and people definitely were piecing together the matching pajamas, even though Simon wasn’t posting full photos of himself on his… he DID post photos of Hazel, Grace and Samantha. Eventually, Hazel, with her doe eyes told them that she wasn’t used to having a Christmas like this and she wanted an actual family photo. Simon made it happen, as the one who was best at it, and Hazel changed her profile pic to it. This was a Christmas dream come true for her, so Grace didn’t raise a fuss about the nosy people. Simon was grateful for that, too, as he wrapped himself around her, while Hazel laid her head on her lap for them to watch Christmas movies until Hazel fell asleep. Simon tucked her away in her bed, setting the atmosphere of the room the way that he had seen Grace do several times in the time that they had been spending time sleeping over at each others’ - the lighting, the diffuser, her Tuba stuffie, and Samantha had come into the room and curled around her feet. Simon gave Hazel’s hair a strumming and shut the door quietly behind him. 

Whenever he went back out, Grace wasn’t in the living room anymore and she’d turned off the TV, so he presumed she went to bed, as well. He picked up any clutter they left laying around and put things back where they belonged before he retired too. Grace was… awake… She wasn’t in her matching pajamas anymore. Instead, she had on a red nightie that hardly covered anything, with some fun stuff beneath. He froze, shut the door, locked it. She leaned back against the pillows and smirked, “It’s Christmas Eve. I believe that you have something to show me.”

“Permission to present, Ma’am?”

“I consent.” Simon smiled and removed his pajamas before approaching the bed and removing his boxers. “Bring it here, for further inspection,” she said, with a teasing smile. He climbed into bed, and saw that she had on pasties that read “Naughty” and “Nice” and her thong had a picture of a mistletoe on the front. He stared at it and looked up at her. “I consent,” she repeated, to answer his unasked question.

They still weren't going all the way. Grace wasn't sure when she might be ready for that and Simon wasn't pressing his luck by asking for more. Besides, there were things far more important than sex and while her using favors and acts as a means to keep him… in line, he was more than appreciative about the fact that he was invited to spend New Year's Eve with she and her friends.

Whenever Mr. and Mrs. Monroe came over for the opening of the presents, Grace was back into her pajamas again and nobody ever would have known just how naughty she had been the night before. Hazel got more presents than were even reasonable, and Grace was given a lot by her parents and Simon, as well. Simon was surprised that her parents had bought him gifts as well. He had expected ones from Grace (was unsure about Hazel, but glad to receive from her too). There was… a lot of love he was feeling. It reminded him of whenever he used to spend holidays with the Monroes and be treated at least like he mattered, if not like family. He cried about it, apologizing to the Monroes for everything he'd done. Mrs. Monroe brushed it off, but he and Mr. Monroe wound up talking at length about things men are supposed to do and not supposed to do, why he had been disgusted by Simon's decisions, etc. At the end of it, Simon did feel like Mr. Monroe forgave him. Mrs. Monroe was always going to feel how she felt, and that was alright. It had to be, just like it had to be, that Simon was always going to feel how he felt about his parents… who also sent gifts for him and Hazel with the Monroes. Hazel and him decided that they would video call them together to thank them. Faith looked terrible. She looked like a fading ghost. But, she was starting to be nicer. Probably the guilt and the fear of thinking that something was next.

For Simon? What was next was here on Earth. Christmas Day yielded him having to put together things for Hazel and Grace, finish making sure that dinner was right, and continually try to score brownie points with Grace. The Monroes were staying at an upscale hotel, but stayed at the townhouse well past nightfall. Grace had kept certain things steady - the candles, sometimes throwing a little handful of herbs she selected into the fireplace, everyone’s drink glasses, and check-ins with Simon, to make sure he was still feeling okay, as this was their first Christmas together and her family could be stressful, etc. He was great. He never wanted it to end. He felt needed and wanted. He felt cared for and acknowledged. He didn’t even have that anxious feeling that it was all going to go away.

He wound up having to carry Hazel to bed. She fell asleep on her grandparents’ laps, playing on a new device they got her, which he put away first and tucked her in, accordingly.

“He seems very comfortable here,” Mrs. Monroe said.

“We’re working on things, Mom,” Grace said, nodding. Her parents had about the same amount of information that everyone else had about this situation. The more that they knew was that Simon would be there for Christmas. They hadn’t expected him to have slept over, in matching pajamas, to be cooking the food, building the toys, and certainly not for him to be tucking their granddaughter into bed. “We’ve been working on things since maybe a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, give or take a few days.”

“So, he’s made this place a second home in a month’s time.” It was a statement.

“Mommy! Stop.”

Simon returned, just as cheerful as before and paused when he noticed the energy in the room. He pointed his thumb towards Hazel’s room and said, “I may have to add something in there to make storage more optimal, with all the new stuff..” Grace just smiled and nodded. “Did I interrupt something.”

“Just my reservations about you being here,” Mrs. Monroe said. Simon frowned and he nodded. “But, my daughter is an adult now. She makes her own decisions and if you tell her too much that she doesn’t like, she moves across the country and rarely calls…” Grace groaned, “SO! I guess my reservations will merely dissipate, like they’ve done in days past.”

“I think you should definitely feel how you feel…” He bit his lip and told Grace, “I’ll head home.”

“Head home? You’re not gonna stay?... and… help me clean up in the kitchen?” She asked… not wanting him to leave her alone with her parents and not wanting to say that either. But, he took the hint.

“Right! Sorry. Of course, I am.” He squeezed her hand and sat down beside her. There was some silence, then he broke it, “I know that everyone has reason not to believe me and I’m not going to beg anybody anymore… except for Grace, sometimes. At this point, it is out of everyone’s control whether or not I can be trusted, as Grace has decided to try to trust me. It’s now up to me to live up to that opportunity. Everyone is welcome to come to my house tomorrow and go through and see what I’ve been up to lately.”

They spent some time at his house the next day and now, Mrs. Monroe wondered, “Why didn’t you just host Christmas here?”

“Maybe next year,” Grace said, with a shrug. It was the best thing that Simon had heard. He smiled and blushed and puffed his chest out. She was considering that she hoped to still be with him next year. That was a perfect ending to his Christmas, and he prayed for New Year’s Eve to go well, too.

.

Shana fortunately was not going to be there. She and her girlfriend were in Cali for Christmas and New Year's. In fact, there were several other people that were there that hadn't been around for the birthday party Simon had sort of crashed. Tulip, Mikayla, and Julliard chick who he found out was named Chapa were there, along with the Black ginger dude, who they called Meta, and Damita, Grace's alleged best friend. There were about a dozen other people too. Among them, Ghairrisahn, and truth be told, seeing her again, and in close quarters, Simon was still a little bit smitten by her. But, he also kept looking at Grace, who had worn what was essentially sparkly jewelry out.

It was luminescent chain mail two piece, pleated like victory curtain swag that flowed like water and sparkles like embers whenever the light caught it. The cup only bra and seamless panty beneath was so customized to her skin tone, he'd thought that she was naked beneath and initially almost injured himself when she took off her fur coat.

Nobody in the room was as sexy… Though… he really had to admit… Her friends were all pretty sexy.

Someone offered him a beverage, and he declined, "I don't drink."

"Are you both straight edge?"

"No. I take a lot of meds and have a partially functioning liver and less than stellar spleen. Couldn’t afford to drink, if I was even tempted to."

"Jesus! A medical condition?"

"Ummm… the meds, yes. I've got delusional tendencies, ummm… not heavy, but enough that I need the additional assistance. The organs were the consequences to one of my many, many aggravated episodes."

"Which… were not actually related to his psychosis," Grace offered and threw him a look, wondering why he was divulging the information this way.

"Not directly. I have some struggles, but I also can be an asshole," he chuckled. "A little childhood trauma, poor early development resources and a personality disorder that I've been working through, with a lot of help…" he looked at Grace and she cupped his chin and smiled at him. That was enough to help him relax.

"You don't have to tell people all of that, Gray Eyes. “I’m on medication” is enough, or even, just “I don’t drink."

"It's… fine." He smiled back, his heart uncontrollable as he looked her way. God, she was beautiful and precious. He loved her so much. He loved that she was with him again, and that it was more than it had ever been before.

"How bout a virgin daiquiri?"

"Sure, thanks."

The night mellowed out after a while. Grace went to call in with the nanny to check on Hazel when it was her bedtime. Simon watched her as she stepped out of the room, sparkling and waited to see her strut back inside. "Hazel just went to bed," she told him.

A few moments later, Meta asked Simon, "Have you heard Grace freestyle?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Freestyle."

"Freestyle?"

"Rap…?"

"Rap…???" Simon immediately thought about when they were younger and Grace tried to rap. She was probably 13 he was sure not 14 yet, and it was both miserable to hear but the absolute best thing because it was so comical. That thought alone steered him from the surrounding conversation that followed onto laughing uncontrollably.

Grace and Ghairrisahn stared at him and others tried not to laugh at his response. Grace simply thought, ‘So, you’re just gonna sit here and laugh in my face like this?’ Tears were streaming from his eyes! When he finally composed himself he took a few moments trying to breathe again and asked, "Hmm?" he repeated, “Rap? Like… rap music?” He got up to find some tissue and Grace folded her arms, smirking. “I’M GONNA PEEE!!!” Simon called out, rushing to the bathroom.

He returned a few minutes later, seemingly composed, but muttered the word, “Rap,” and laughed again, though not as hard, this time.

Ghairrisahn suggested, "Let him listen to her Fat P**** verse."

Simon choked and his eyes were wide, "Her what?"

"Oh my God, you guys! That was so long ago!" Grace said. "Please, nobody have that! I already had to sit here and watch this man laugh harder than he ever has in all the years that I’ve known him."

"I have it," Damita said. “I still jam Fat P***y. Salty that they never made and released that. That was dope. We can always use more p***y songs, in my opinion.”

Simon was definitely on board to keep hearing pretty women casually say the P word, but his face must have shown his confusion, because Grace explained, "Whenever I first tried to make my mark in the New York music scene, they were wondering if I could rap, and I had been practicing…" Simon started laughing again, but she talked over him, "BECAUSE, I didn't like the way I used to sound. So I was trying to tap into like the hot girl aesthetic and when Sahn called to ask me if I wanted to write some songs for her and maybe work on demos with her, one of my more risque songs that was all singing of course, they asked, can you throw in a rap verse?"

“Here’s the verse,” Damita said and turned it up:

“Ever since I was a baby sucking on my mama teet, everybody realized, wasn't nobody hot as me.

I was born with it, true, I got it from my mama. Grew up, glowed up, now these b****** want drama.

Can't be mad at me cuz your men keep flocking. Girl I don't want them n****s, I tell them to keep walking.

Why do she? Act like she all that, stuntin hard, swear to God on all them alleycats.

Why she never shook when every other bitch would be?

I got too much of my own to ever act like a groupie. Every real n**** know that girl so bougie.

Why so many high rollers be wanting her to choose he?

Maybe that's because they know she got that good coochie.

That's right, fat p***y on my stat sheet. They wanna hit, but I only let ‘em eat me. 

Pucker up, work that tongue until they can't breathe -

And only if they got the energy to please me… Fat P***y…”

The song went on to soulfully and smoothly sing about fat P, and there were whispers and ad libs that he knew were Grace. By the end, he wondered where her rap was. "What happened?"

"I practiced and got better at rapping, so my verse sounded good, but they didn’t like it. They felt like it was too much.”

He laughed. "That wasn't you!" They played it again and she rapped and sang along. Simon had a look in his eyes as he was forced to admit, "Well… you definitely got better than the rapping I remember."

Then, he was once again thinking about how she sounded way back when. It caused another fit of laughter. “Boy, fuck you!” Grace said and playfully kicked him. Even still, he couldn’t stop laughing.

What made matters worse was whenever Damita asked, “Was your rapping as bad as the freestyle you did on Tuba’s show?”

“WHAT???” Simon asked and howled at the sky. “PLEASE! PLEASE… Do you have that?”

“It’s online,” Damita said.

“Woooooow. You are such a fake friend,” Grace said.

“You… did it in a studio audience…”

Simon found the clip and it wasn’t actually bad. It was definitely of the Kids’ Bop variety, but he loved it. “You’re good at rapping now. Because, I mean… do YOU remember when you first tried?”

She shook her head, “No, that sounds made up. I think you imagined it.” Simon stopped smiling and stopped to think, with an anxious look on his face. Grace caught her mistake and winced. She climbed onto his lap and said, “No, no, no… I'm sorry. I didn’t think about it. I didn’t mean that. You didn’t imagine it. I definitely tried to rap and sounded like somebody’s suburban Becky with a struggle blaccent.” He took a deep breath and nodded. She took his chin in her hand and forced his lips to pucker for her to kiss. “Sorry about that. I promise, I didn’t mean to make you panic.”

“S’ok.” He smiled.

Ultimately he had Damita to send him the audio of the demo. As funny as the idea of her wrapping had been before, he couldn't deny that there was something very appealing about getting to hear her say that word over and over.

Ringing in a new year kissing her lips in front of other people felt like a tremendous accomplishment. Appearing in several of the photos with her and her friends that were circulating social media, and then leaving with her on his arm, in that goddamn bracelet from Tiffany's and the fur coat. Ghairrisahn gave him a kiss on the cheek goodnight. He and Tulip exchanged contact info for a possible work project later. Nobody punched him. He was able to get some friction action from Grace, to the point of losing control in his pants, and he had a new catchy song to sing and rap about.

Every time he brings it up, it's either him laughing about how he remembered her old rap, or him rapping sporadically about having a fat P… which.. also gave him a little chuckle. Neither of them knew at that time that he would walk around the house rapping it for a few weeks, every few months, for quite a while.

"For someone with little compact titties and a tight little petite butt, you do have a pretty fat pu-"

"I will definitely react in displeasure if you finish that statement…" They gave each other wincing smiles. He punctuated his by kissing her on the nose real quick.

.

Whenever Valentines Day rolled around, she told him that she didn’t really want to do anything… which he HATED, because he loved that day! But, she wanted to be lowkey and she didn’t think that he could manage lowkey. She decided to make him one of his beloved ASMR videos, of her eating chocolate covered fruit and sucking on ice cubes with edible flowers in them. “This is gonna help smooth me over for a long time,” he said watching it. “I made you a video too.”

“Send it to me!” she said.

Whenever she opened the video and it was a fanvid compilation of her dancing in music videos or her social media posts, played to match up with Fat P***y, she cackled, then shook her head, “I am so tired of your ass,” she joked.

That was around the time that the revised second book of Esmoroth: The Idol Princess Falls was released.

Hazel decided that she would read them to Grace, because it had become obvious that Grace was never going to read them for herself and things were always easier to hear when they came from Hazel. She loved Hazel’s voice. She was able to get both books read to Grace by the end of Spring Break that year. Grace frequently texted Simon her complaints with this Idol Princess and how she was depicted. He was working a lot of the time and grateful of that fact. She wasn’t cool with most of the first book. She warmed up with the second one, EVEN THOUGH the Idol Princess died near the end. Correction: The Future King KILLED her! KILLED HER. He tried to explain that he couldn’t change that portion. That it was important to the plot of the third book, where the Future King would be hunted down because of this murder and go on a journey to bring the Idol Princess back!

It was extremely important.

“Okay, but how does she ever forgive this motherfucker after the way that he turned on her for something that was a misunderstanding?? HE KILLED HER, SIMON!” He knew that most of her emotions were because of who those characters represented. That book sold more than the first one and she found herself in the Esmoroth fandom… at least incognito, seeing that the Idol Princess was actually quite hated and many were relieved of her death. They didn’t know yet that she would be back and it took a lot out of her not to tell those punks! Did they even read the same book?? Simon found her on the porch swing, with her phone, crying.

“Grace…”

“It’s the exile from the Apex all over again.” He kneeled beside her. “They’re treating her exactly like they treated me and what am I gonna do? Get upset over a fictional character? No. I’m upset over the fact that whether she’s fictional, or whether she’s real, this is what people always do. We can’t do anything right.” She wiped her tears. “She tried really hard to make everyone happy and she died trying to help him. Trying to SAVE him, and he purposefully killed her, and they STILL see her as the bad guy. It’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the Apex and I’m sorry for the Esmoroth fandom…”

She sighed and shook her head, “Fuck them nerds, Man.” She said. But, she was still hurt. Mostly, because it felt so much like reopening wounds that she thought she had healed from. It got so bad to the point that Simon almost backed out of publishing the last one, but he HAD to publish that one! That was the story of how the Future King was willing to go through every trial and tribulation, face every danger and fear just to get his friend back. What he hadn’t told her was that the character ultimately has to be willing to die, himself in order to awaken her. He had a few different possible endings and he wasn’t sure which one was most sufficient. He figured that might be because his future with Grace wasn’t always very clear. Particularly after he awakened that pain of betrayal inside of her.

The couple’s and group therapy was especially helpful during this time, because she honestly felt unreasonable in how upset this story made her, and had to remember and realize that her feelings weren’t necessarily towards the book’s feedback, but her own unaddressed hurt for the way that she had been treated. Sure, she had forgiven Simon, but at Simon’s initial harm, she had been subjected to thousands of hurtful opinions and harassment. She had spoken to a few people and rectified things - Shana, Simon, her parents… but what about the general public? What about her former “friends” and “followers” online? The people who she didn’t know before who appeared simply to speak on how much they hated a 16 year old girl. The people who made her life hell by forcing their way into her mentions, and into her mind… and once again… Simon, because he KNEW that they would and he KNEW it would hurt, because she had been very open with him at the time that such things were hurting her.

How was she supposed to build with someone who she would apparently for at least a long time, if not forever, she would think about how he tore her down. How he learned everything about her when they loved each other only to use things against her when he thought they didn’t.

Once upon a time, Simon was convinced that he had never done anything wrong in his life and that every time something happened that was wrong in his world, it was because of the people around him doing things to him, which was true in certain cases, but certainly not in every case, and definitely not in Grace’s case… But, once he felt attacked, all bets were off and he wasn’t letting up on her. It reached the point where she wondered if it was her fault and while she suffered her breakdown, before he was ever forced to get help of his own… she had attackers from all sides. Strangers. Associates. Fake friends… And they all rose against her, despite the fact that she was already down and the fact of the matter was and always would be that she was already down because Simon KNOCKED her down.

And… she had loved him through it. She’d always loved him. It was something that she felt so stiupid about for so long, while she was recovering, and for a time, she didn’t feel that way. In fact, as of the moment, Simon had done absolutely nothing to make her recall the hurt. She might have been offset by reading those books, and escalated it by checking out the fandom, but while he would always have a fear of abandonment from his mom or whatever… she was starting to feel like she would always have the fear of his betrayal. She was willing to hear him out, to work on establishing boundaries and rebuilding trust, rebuilding love, but there would probably always be the underlying torment, “I didn’t know how much he hated me, before. How can I ever know that I haven’t made one of his hard to determine mistakes and that he isn’t in the process of making me pay for it?” She asked, crying. “I just… have to trust him… but… I thought I did, then suddenly… I realize out of nowhere, maybe I don’t. Maybe I can’t. Maybe I never will.”

Simon started crying but he put one hand over his face and tried to suck it up. “The worst part is that he’s done nothing to provoke this wave of distrust… so it feels like there's not really anything that he could do to reassure me. He was already in the process of reassuring me and this just arose…" Simon sobbed. "Simon…" he shook his head. "This is what happens. When something comes up, he feels responsible, then I feel bad."

"I AM responsible. It doesn't matter if it was years ago. The damage was done and I'm the one who did it."

"Have you to tried taking some space apart to just be able to find each of your bearings without leaning on how each other makes you feel?"

They hadn't. But, now that the counselor suggested it,they would. Grace worried about Simon… that he might… react. She spent the first few days paranoid, checking behind her and being startled by every surprise sound at home.

During that time, one of her music videos released and the internet was abuzz with the racy nature of her single Lovedrunk Country and certain scenes in the video, including her choreography which included pole dancing, a peepshow setting, and at least one lapdance in which she is seen dancing with her thighs open in the recipient's face.

Someone (many someones) asked Simon what he thought about the video and he said, "It's an incredibly sexy video with awesome costume design and chorography. Who doesn't want to be the guy in the chair?"

She'd warned him whenever they were filming of some of the stuff in the video, but she had forgotten by the time it aired and worried that he might have too.

Grace: Heyyy… How is everything?

Simon: Confusing.

Grace: How do you mean?

Simon: I'm on so much meds right now.

Grace: For what?

Simon: The usual + I'm sick. ☹️

Grace: Do you need some help?

Simon: I don't want to trouble anybody.

Grace: Ummm. Who is "anybody?" Your concerned lovelady is worried! I'm coming over.

Simon: You don't have to do that. I need you to feel safe.

Grace: Are you contagious?

Simon: It's an infection. But… I meant because of therapy…

Grace: It's passed. I miss you, Fool.

Simon: 🥺 I've been miserable.

.

That happened from time to time. They'd be flourishing. They'd be fine. Then, they'd be frustrated and need to give each other a little room (technically, it was almost always Grace), as Simon really did seem as though he was willing to go through anything just to make sure he was always near her. Sometimes that meant going through time apart from her. But they didn't put their relationship on hold. Whenever they were taking space it was literally just that. Going to their own homes for a little bit until everybody was comfortable again.

By May, Hazel's 11th birthday, they threw the party at Simon's house. That June, Grace's album came out. That July, Mrs. Monroe said that she was looking for a surrogate, so that she and Mr. Monroe could try again at another child. Simon's 24th birthday, he announced that a major studio made a deal with him for the Book of Esmoroth. By Grace's 24th, the Monroes had found their surrogate. That Halloween, Simon and Hazel had dressed as some characters from some sci fi or fantasy world of theirs and Grace was dressed down, in a hoodie and some yoga pants with her fro pulled forward. Because, she was always dressing up and having to look amazing. Halloween was a day that she dressed up by not dressing up at all. Four days later, Simon's dad called to tell him that his mother had "Gone to be with the Lord."

Simon didn't want to go back to her services if Grace wasn't going to be with him. So, her parents kept Hazel while she went along for emotional support… and Simon needed more than he thought he would for losing his mom..

She was "dead to him" long ago. Even in her last days, it was like staring at a corpse that was making groaning noises. She'd lived past when they thought, but she never actually told Simon that she forgave him, and people's insistence on saying that now Faith and Hope were together just made him furious.

He took a leave of absence from work and saw the grief counselor a little more frequently. Grace made recipes she had bookmarked, hoping that might make him feel better on the home front. He wasn't coming out of the house, so she and Hazel spent Thanksgiving week at his.

Hazel wondered, "Are you going to be well enough to cook for Thanksgiving? You might not remember, but you said that you'd make turducken… if you don't… Grace will try… three birds will have died in vain…" Simon snorted and tousled her hair. "She's really worried about you."

"I'm trying really hard to get better for you two…"

"No. That's not what you need to be doing. You need to be trying to get better for you."

"My therapist has told me that before."

"And what? You pay him to not listen to him?"

Simon shook his head, "I don't understand why I'm so sad. She was a bad person who was bad to me. She hurt me and made me as bad as her, maybe worse. Why would I care that she's gone?"

"It doesn't matter why. You do, and that's gotta be okay, because you obviously can't control it. Let yourself feel whatever you need to and try to get better for you. In the meantime, I wasn't playing about that turducken. You… can't let Grace try to take on something like that. She just started making edible food like… this year…"

He cackled and Grace peeked in, "Hey Ho Whoa! Is my loveman feeling better?" He caught her eye and forced a smile. She knew it was fake, but it was the first he'd tried in weeks, so she felt better. Simon forced himself into the kitchen that week to make Thanksgiving happen. Grace and Hazel followed whatever instructions he gave for additional help, and after he was actually up and about making himself useful and spending time with his favorite two people, he felt better too.

This year, he was thankful for another year with them… "Oh God… I let our first anniversary slip by!"

"Simon… I don't know what day that was even."

"November 5th," Simon said. "Because that remember, remember the 5th of November rhyme was in my head…"

"Ohhhh." Grace winced and she bit her lip. "I mean… it makes sense you forgot… the day started with your mom…" Simon frowned. _That was the same day?_

"SHE. RUINS. EVERYTHING!" he roared. Hazel squealed and fell to the floor. Simon got up and stormed out of the back door. Grace heard him screaming and hitting things and it had been a really long time since he did anything like that. Hazel was crying… so she wasn't a turtle. Grace helped her up and brought her to her room then went to check on Simon.

He was bound to snap, the way that he had been holding everything in all month. He was pacing and she stayed on the porch and observed. "Simon?"

He shook his head, "No. No, I'm not coming back inside like this. "She just… with her last breath had to take something else away from me…"

"She took nothing but her last breath, Si."

"That day can't be special without me having to think about her dying!"

Grace came down off the porch, "That day can be whatever we say it is, because we're still here. She's dead. Her power should be gone, Simon." She offered a smile, then asked, "Did I ever tell you about the first ceremony that Hazel and I ever attended together?" She explained meeting Hazel, and the way that she put everything to rest for her… "I think one of the main reasons that you can't get past this is because you felt like you were supposed to be giving her tribute. You felt like because you were sad and morning that that meant that you had to pay your respects. But when you tried you didn't find any. That's okay Simon. You don't have to pay respects. You could simply send her off with your truth. Whatever that is you've got to face it. you can't bottle everything in and then just explode like that in front of Hazel. She was terrified."

He looked guilty and sad as he rushed back in to apologize. Hazel took it well. And when he mentioned that ceremony of theirs, Hazel and Grace went back outside with him so that he could have his own. It was mostly accusations, frustrations, and some yelling… but he got it all off of his chest, the way that couldn't be done at a proper funeral. After that, he honestly and truly started feeling like his good self again.

By Christmas, as was hoped the previous year, Grace still had him in her life. They did Christmas at his house that year.


	32. God Bless the Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've gotten here already, congratulations! You've caught up to where we are in the story in real time. Yayyyy! Thanks for reading.

The next year was eventful for a tremendous amount of reasons.

First and foremost, Grace had a World Tour scheduled for the end of spring, entire summer, and beginning of fall. That meant that Hazel had the chance to travel, stuck with staff most of the time, or her mom the OTHER portion of time. She didn’t want to do that. Hazel liked seeing new things and traveling, even being around crowds of people, but she was going through puberty and often just wanted to chill with her friends or even by herself, to write poetry, maybe record some of her raps, and work on comics. Of course, Grace told her that if she could do that anywhere, it was in the tour bus.

Simon’s final book was going to be released in the summer, and he was going to begin working on the movie production for the (hopefully first and not only) film in the fall. Whether or not the studio would want to make more would depend on the success of this film, and the budget would be determined by what types of sales this last book made.

Grace was always going on about “an ecosystem,” a concept that one of her favorite influencers spoke about. Basically, she believed that whenever you had the chance to give people that you knew of/believed in a shot, you should do that. So, Simon wanted to get the studio in business with the tech company that he currently worked for, for numerous aspects of the production.

Simon already had multiple prototypes for animatronics and pointed plans for various aspects of this movie. A deal like that could really help the company (that he may or may not be staying at once he finished with this huge movie project), which also might be a situation in which he could be working on many of these things and get paid from his company as well, in the meantime for the work that fell under the studio’s umbrella. It would help all of them, and save money and trouble in other areas where he might have problems with CGI concerns and such.

Simon had been preparing for if Esmoroth took off big his entire life. He still had models at home, and years worth of world building, sketches, schematics, simulations, mini movies, files of programming for how various scenes looked in his mind.

These things being considered, whenever Simon put his and Grace’s schedules side by side at the beginning of the year to find opportunities and plan special events… well… They were not matching up very well. “I don’t like this Grace. I know that sometimes we take a few days apart, but our longest stint has been 2 weeks and 4 days… This calendar makes it look like we might see each other in increments of 6-8 weeks at a time, more than once and the fragments in between are…” He started breathing hard and she wrapped her arms around him from behind. He placed his hands over hers. “Okay. You’re right. We can do this.” She just smiled. She hadn’t said that, but that was basically what she wanted to convey. “Montanus’ arrival is scheduled for the 4th of July weekend.”

“Yeah. I’ll be flying out there. Are you coming?”

“Can’t. But, I’ll be there for the christening… which… you have a show the night before, so… Are you going to be there?”

“I’m planning on it. My show the night before is a few hours away, so I should be able to make it the next morning and still dash out to the next venue.”

“Sweet. Then, I’ll catch the show that night.”

“My period is that weekend.”

“Ugh. I mean… not that I don’t still love you then…”

“We both know why you’re here,” she said, chuckling.

“Because I can’t function outside of your divinity,” he replied, quicker than she was prepared for. He made note of all the spaces that he would have to possibly see her on this tour and started looking into the accommodations that he would need whenever he did.

.

Grace had hit after hit after hit on her album, her old original stuff was starting to receive a resurgence of streams and her pages were getting more traffic than her current team was able to handle some days. But, she simply reached out, within her ecosystem for others that might be able to join said team and make things flow better. Meanwhile, she didn’t get onto social media much. One of her problems with fully letting down her walls was the fact that surfing the Internet always made her have to take a look at how people viewed her. She had to start considering that no matter how well she did or how hard she tried, someone out there would have a problem with her, and because she was famous, it would be a lot of someones.

Hazel was online more with her work. She liked to enter freestyle challenges, submit her spoken word, publish her poems. She called her current brand of creativity “Doetry,” and she had a pretty increasingly large following. Simon usually helped to administrate, because Grace was never great at that type of thing and also because he didn’t trust Internet weirdos enough to not be involved.

She was going through things, but he never censored her or intruded. He monitored to make sure that nobody was making her life any harder than it had to be, being raised in NYC and the daughter of a very public figure, and also Simon, who was important enough, depending on who you asked… and he was getting to the point where he might reach notable fame.

May 19 was a Tuesday that year, so they would be spending the previous weekend celebrating Hazel’s birthday and her actual birthday would just be a school day that everyone on social media sent her birthday wishes on. Simon took time off to take Hazel, Lucy, Lindsay, Alex, Todd, and Louis to Grace for the weekend. The way that the schedule was set up, she wouldn’t have had the time to leave and come back and go to her next venue, but they would have the time to come to her. Hazel suggested that she just miss out, but Grace was NOT going to do that, especially with the year that Hazel had been having. So, she paid for Hazel’s friends to come with.

Simon found it fascinating that these kids’ parents were entrusting the children to him to get on a plane together, travel to another state, spend more than one night there, and fly them back home safely.

He supposed it was similar to a Scouts trip, or a school trip… but he was just the “parent” of another child. He wasn’t a scout leader or teacher. Then again, those were just people too, he guessed. He would NOT feel comfortable sending Hazel on a plane with any of these children’s parents, except for maybe Lucy’s.

But, Simon found that his old scouts instincts kicked in when being responsible for a group of kids, but this time around he had that nagging dad-like behavior that the past couple of years around Hazel had given him.

Being off for Hazel’s birthday, she arranged for them to have a spa day retreat. The kids and some of the staff were included in this, though not as advanced a day as Grace and Hazel. Whenever they met up and had their indulgences, Simon could barely keep his hands off of Grace. Hazel felt a little bit slighted.. It was HER birthday, after all. They didn’t have to be cozied up the whole time. Of course, Grace presumed she wanted to spend most of her time with her friends, and whenever they finished with cake and began listening to music and chilling, Grace and Simon left them with the Nanny so that they could have some alone time. Hazel aired her grievances to her friends. She hated that Grace was on tour. She hated that their home life was separated into different worlds that she had to board and unboard. Lindsay understood it perfectly. Her dad was sometimes not home for weeks or months. Sometimes, she didn’t see her mom (who actually lived with her) for days. Sometimes, whenever she did see her, the woman was busy with making appearances and performing shows, and she DIDN’T have a nanny. She just had to be at home by herself a lot. Whenever her dad was there, he’d have his friends over a lot. They would disrupt Lindsey’s quiet, but she would be grateful that she wasn’t alone. She would LOVE if her parents tried to include her in their worlds like Grace and Simon did with Hazel.

Lucy’s parents were usually there whenever she needed them, but they didn’t seem to be very happy. They were always together, but the only time that she saw them smile at each other or talk to each other was whenever they were out in public. Her father was a politician, and her mother was a public figure, simply for being his wife and being a good conservative wife who followed his guidelines. Lucy… didn’t care for any of it. She would’ve liked to just have two people who love each other like Grace and Simon seemed to. 

Hazel felt a little better, because apparently, she had pretty good parents. She also didn’t feel a little better, because she still felt dissatisfied.

Whenever Simon and Grace made it back, after the others were asleep, Hazel talked to Simon about letting her stay home with him after the school year ended. Both Grace and him loved her, right? So, she should be able to stay home, near her friends, in her comfort zone, and then she’d see Grace when she got home, and she’d be crazy excited about it, like she used to be when she didn’t get to see her everyday. Like she was whenever she saw her this weekend!

Simon reluctantly let her know he would be much busier in the summer than he was at the moment. He was at home with her and the Nanny as much as possible, but he reminded her that there was less than a month left of school and then she would be with her mom again. Her mom had ONLY been gone now for about a month… Hazel didn’t know if he could hear himself basically saying, “It’s only a couple of months away from your mom, both of you changing over that time in different ways and potentially growing apart, then you get to be awkwardly thrown back together because I’m not actually your parent and can’t wait until she can take you back!” He didn’t say that, but that was what she heard. She nodded her head, sadly, and Grace chimed in to remind her that she’d be on tour with her! They hadn’t been able to be together in almost a month and after one more, they would! Hazel smiled. “Of course, Grace. I can’t wait. We’re gonna have a lot of fun.”

Hazel finished off the school year with the Nanny and Simon. They flew out to meet with Grace, in June, spent a couple of days together, then Simon was headed back home, to focus on his stupid important things, Hazel couldn’t help but think. And she was pissed at him, too. She had been mopey and basically on autopilot most of this time, even with Grace trying desperately to cheer her up whenever she had some free time.

She just wanted a summer where she could hang out and have fun if she wanted to. Grace asked her to at least give her a couple of weeks to prove that this could be a fun experience. However, Grace kept running into that troublesome hassle of the public being pushy and entitled. Hazel and she kept either getting rushed in and out of places and trapped for a while, bothered every few minutes when they weren’t holed up, or surrounded by staff getting things done in between performances. Hazel lasted two weeks, then cried and begged to go home and be able to see her friends. It broke Grace’s heart but she promised to let Hazel go back with Simon after the stop in California for her baby brother’s birth.

Grace felt super rejected and cried about it, but if that was what Hazel really wanted, she didn’t want her career to make her feel stressed out. Her mother was quite a smartass about it. “Who would have thought that it might be difficult to focus on a demanding career while raising a child?”

“I didn’t call you for this.”

“Of course not. What did you call for?”

She wanted to know how the surrogate was. Grace didn’t know what it said about someone that they would rent out their body to grant someone else a child, but she could totally understand the flipside. Whenever Simon mentioned babies, she was extremely willing to adopt again, even the smallest baby that they would be able to be matched with… but nothing statistically made her have an inkling of wanting to actually change her entire body, probably for the worse so that she could potentially die to bring someone else into the world that she would immediately begin having to take care of and put everything into. It was hard enough to do with Hazel, and getting harder all of the time.

When that child’s period came around in February, Grace picked her up from school, gathered up the products she was most interested in (products from Grace’s own line), provided snacks, emergency meds, just in case, and any information that Hazel wasn’t certain about. Simon came over with a gift basket of stuff that had been suggested to him by browsing nice things to do for periods. They really wanted her to be comfortable and safe. She just wanted them to stay the fuck out of her room and let her lay down and write poems.

She didn’t get how Grace had period yoga, and heightened self care. The LAST thing Hazel felt like doing was caring about anything, even self. She wanted to rest and to rage. That was it. Grace would buy her flowers and say something silly like, “Whenever my period comes around, sometimes, flowers make me feel happier,” Then just… leave a pot with an orchid, or geraniums, or a peace lily in her room… to have to what? Care for a flower now TOO, as well as self?? Hazel hated the way her period made her feel. She spoke to her therapist about it and was advised to speak to her mother and potentially a gynecologist about it as well. Hazel put that conversation off, though.

She seemed her happiest whenever she was able to go to her grandparents’ to wait for the baby with them. Grace… didn’t understand…

Simon explained, “You don’t remember being 12 and not wanting to be around our parents?”

“Our parents sucked though! And she WANTS to be around my parents!”

“She wants to meet her baby uncle,” Simon told her and wrapped himself around her.

“Has she mentioned anything to you? I know that sometimes she feels more comfortable telling you stuff than she does me, since you aren’t her parent…”

He let go and frowned, “Wow.”

“I mean… There’s paperwork, Simon. You aren’t…”

“I know, but, I step in as much as you did before that, maybe even more. I understand that she technically isn’t mine, but she's important to me, too, Grace.”

“I know, but…” she sighed and shook her head, “I’m not trying to start a fight. Of course you’re as present as any father has ever been for her. I wasn’t trying to downgrade that, and I didn’t mean to sound like I was. I just wanted to know if she’d said anything to you about me.”

“No. She’s not talking to me. But, she does express herself via Doetry.”

“Her content is so angry and dark…”

“What she shares, at least…” Grace threw him a warning look. “I’m not saying make it a habit, but maybe taking a peek into her personal stuff might give you some type of clue as to what she needs right now.”

"I'm not snooping into Hazel's things, Simon. There's a reason that she shares what she shares and hides whatever she hides, IF she's hiding anything. I don't want to parent that way."

"Okay."

"And I'm also saying that you shouldn't."

"Noted."

"Okay… what I meant by shouldn't is don't do it."

"So, it's an order?"

"Yes."

He sighed. Hazel WAS Grace's daughter, legally, and he didn't want to do anything that he didn't have permission to. "Okay." It took him longer to say it than Grace had gotten accustomed to, but she knew he meant it and that it was hard for him to agree to this wish. She strummed his cheek with her thumb and he leaned into it and smirked. It was also easy to make him forget whenever she upset him. She leaned up just enough to kiss him on the nose and he blushed. She giggled. “What?”

“The fact that you’ll blush when I kiss you on the nose when you literally have been putting your nose right in between my thighs for almost 2 years.”

He blushed even more and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m blushing then, too. You just don’t notice because you’re usually quivering in pleasure.”

Sha gasped, “Cocky,” she said and elbowed him playfully.

“Confident… and accurate.”

“You don’t have to SAY it,” she said, now blushing herself.

He didn’t call her on it. Just seeing it was enough. Simon kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “I love you…” Her smile vanished and he furrowed his eyebrows, staring at her mouth in disappointment. “Sorry. I thought…”

“No… Don’t be. I guess it had to come up some time…” She stared at her hands. “I don’t know how to… I feel like my actions should… I know sometimes people just need to hear it, I just…”

“Please, stop.” He laughed, but was red and she had a feeling not from blushing. “You’re making it worse.”

“I just… Had an immediate flashback to the first time you told me and… I don’t know. This was so different, and you’re so different, and I have no idea why my brain is doing this to us…”

He wanted to say because of what he did to her, but hell.. That was really long ago and like she said, everything was different now. One day, she HAD to forgive him! He shrugged his shoulders, “You can’t control how you feel any more than I could.”

She frowned and nodded. Then, fortunately, Hazel came rushing in, "He's coming!" Simon and Grace both rushed into the birthing quarters where Mrs. Monroe, the documentation crew, the surrogate, midwife and such were. Hazel and Simon stood out of the way while Grace rushed to the surrogate and asked the midwife what she should do. (She was designated as her birthing partner, as she felt bad that her parents didn't seem to see her as anything more than a vessel) Grace spent a lot of time reading up to try to prepare for this.

It was a powerful time. It LOOKED as painful as it sounded from everything she read that discouraged her, but she tried to be strong for the surrogate. Simon was really impressed with how much Grace was able to do for her. He knew that she had become very empathetic over the years, but it was honestly a side of her he still hadn't seen. Meanwhile, Mrs. Monroe looked on, excitedly, but useless.

Whenever Montanus was born, Grace and the surrogate were both crying and Grace complimented her and told her how she was stronger than (Grace) could ever hope to be. When Grace tried to show her the baby, Mrs. Monroe cut her off and collected him, then gave the nurses some instructions for seeing to her. She was about to have delivery day photos taken.

"None with Astrid, Mom?" Grace wondered, still holding the woman's hand.

"You can, if you insist," she said. "Bad enough your father is late. I don't want to hold everyone up."

Grace was going to say more, but the surrogate squeezed and tugged her hand to get her attention and shook her head. "I signed up for this," she said, quietly. "It's not like he's mine…"

"You held him. You changed. You grew. You hurt. You bled. You cried. You.."

"Signed up for that." But she looked sad. Ao sad that Grace decided at that moment of she EVER DID have a surrogate, it was going to be a fellowship. A sisterhood. A loving connection in which she repaid the person with respect as well as her fee. She was a human. How her mother was able to just plant Montanus inside of her and basically discard her afterwards made Grace feel sick. She didn't even go with Simon and Hazel to see the baby. She was more concerned about this woman who had to put on a strong face after a really hard job.

Later, when she had to leave and also send Hazel off with Simon, she cried on him. "I'm not gonna do that to my surrogate. It was really mean, right? That was so cold…"

Simon rubbed her back, "Grace… it's a business transaction."

"He's not a transaction! He's my brother and he JUST got here, and Mom's ALREADY treating him like an asset. She messed up one kid and she’s had two decades to learn better emotional intelligence. The restart doesn’t look good to me.."

"She's bad at the emotional stuff, but she's trying," Simon offered. You aren't like her and you'll never have to be. You can treat your surrogate as sweetly as you please. But...I have to agree with your mom that they didn't need to connect. That'd just make it harder.

"She couldn't even say hi to him? After all of that?"

"It's what they agreed to. She would have taken one look at him and tried to keep him."

"She wouldn't be able to. He's from my parents' DNA. It was just… so uncomfortably cold. You should bring a baby into a warm life. I was too upset to even see him. I didn't want to give him the negative energy I had."

Hazel shrugged, "You didn't miss anything he looks like… a potato."

Simon gave her a shove and she wondered what was wrong with the truth. "He hasn't developed his looks yet. But he was cute in that it's a new life way."

"I… did not see that," Hazel admitted.

"You saw a potato," Simon repeated.

"Yep."

.

The christening was closer to the end of Grace's tour. She was going to be seeing her parents, new brother, Simon, and Hazel all again for the first time since she'd been on the road alone. Hazel and Simon went early so that he could help his dad with some things and Hazel would stay with her grandparents while he was doing that. Grace arrived in the morning and headed straight to the church.

They were supposed to wear neutral colors and earth tones, meanwhile, Montanus was styled to be in brilliant white with silver and gems. Grace had flashbacks to seeing photos of her own day. She had been draped in gold and yellow and dressed in something that was probably more expensive than reserving the building. She had been "clothed as the sun," and now nearly 25 years later, they had a boy "clothed as the moon."

Her mother told her that she has her outfit selected. She has to change in a room that brides generally used and Grace was a little thicker than when she had initially been fitted, so she squeezed into it and was far more voluptuous than she wanted to be in a church. Non-believer as she was, it simply seemed distasteful. She loved her halo crown for the event. It was pretty fancy, as she seemed to be reprising her role as the sun.

The officiant said something about the sun giving light to the moon, just as she, as his sister and godmother would give her own form of light to him and other poetic and sweet things about love and support, God and stuff and he blessed the baby and allowed them to put him on display for another photoshoot.

Grace ducked out, because she was STARVING, so of course Simon and Hazel came with, as they hadn’t had a chance to spend time with her in weeks. Old stomping grounds made them feel nostalgic and gave Hazel more fodder for imagining them as kids. She loved those times. Them, her age or a little bit younger or little bit older - she wished she knew them then. She wished for adventures like theirs with HER friends. She would never let it turn out how they were for a while, but she was also glad that they had each other now. The past few weeks with her and Simon had been very challenging, as he was more strict in Grace’s absence than when she was home, but he wasn’t abusing it. He just didn’t have Grace there to override him putting his foot down. Hazel hated THAT, but he didn’t care about certain other things, like she got to hang out with her friends longer, stay out later, and stay up later. Grace was a little more about her keeping a certain structure, which was fine a few years ago, but now it was unnecessary to Hazel and fortunately, Simon didn’t care because it was summer. So long as she was upfront about what she was doing and checked in, he was pretty chill. BUT, if she went outside of the boundaries, he was VERY strict. Almost like he felt betrayed. She hated to make him feel that way. They worked out well, though. At the end of the day, they were always friends again.

Grace noted that they had a few inside jokes and stuff while they were at lunch. People kept looking at the trio, in their fancy dress at this little burger dive. A few people came to see if they could get autographs and stuff. Grace was pretty open to that, even when it was uncomfortable. Simon reflexively wanted to step in, but she would brush it off and give him a look to ask him not to, so he gathered his sense of territory and possessiveness and choked it down. He didn’t have consent to defend…

Then… Something else happened. They were getting ready to get into the car and someone rushed up on them for an autograph. Simon would have been impressed with his quick reflexes if it didn’t go so… terribly infuriating…

He stopped the person in their tracks and they threw their hands up, and said that they just wanted a photo with Grace. Simon let go of the guy’s collar and looked at Grace. Hazel had her hand over her heart. Apparently Simon wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the Flashlike fan. “You okay, Haze?” he asked.

She was breathing hard and staring at the man. Grace stooped down to get on her level. “She’s fine,” the man said. “Could I get a photo?” Grace took a deep breath, ignoring him and repeated her question to Hazel. She wasn’t sure why her baby girl was reacting so intensely. Sure, it could be that this motherfucker came out of nowhere, but also… she could have known him from before, because they were in the same area they used to live, OR she might have had something recently happen that made this spook her today. WHATEVER the case, Grace was concerned and trying to talk to her. “I’ll just get a photo and leave you to it.”

“Chill,” Simon warned. He was getting pissed at this person and also worried about Hazel, because she still hadn’t responded. The guy scoffed and Simon clenched his fist. Realign your patience, Simon. Realign.

“Haze?” Grace repeated. Hazel took a deep breath and nodded.

“Sorry. He scared me. I’m fine.”

“Told you she was fine,” the dude said, really annoyed. Simon bit his lip and was practically digging holes into his palms with the balls that were his fists.

Grace wrapped an arm around Hazel and politely told the man, “I’m not currently taking photos. We just stopped to eat and we have to get back to something.” She was now too upset to take a photo. This was her boundary.

She opened the car door for Hazel and the man said, “Ugh, you were signing stuff inside, I saw you.”

Simon stepped in front of him and reiterated, “Yeah, but she told you no, so I advise you to step away from Grace and her daughter. You’ve already startled her and were extremely insensitive about it. You didn’t even apologize to her.”

“She said she was fine, just like I said.”

“She also is clearly not fine, and you, as a grown man should have been keen to it and respectful of that, especially considering that YOU were the one asking for something!” Simon’s canines were bared and Grace had to admit… she was not against seeing this Simon emerge again… not in this situation, at least.

“That’s not even her real daughter…” CRACK! Hazel called Simon’s name. He didn’t hear her. He had taken that balled up fist that he had been tempering and connected it to that man’s jaw. Grace held Hazel back and said softly, “Maybe cover your eyes, Baby.” Because she wasn’t gonna interfere. Simon looked at the man after he had punched him onto the pavement and some people had gathered. Then, he remembered! He turned towards Grace and Hazel, worried that he had just royally screwed up. Hazel’s face was alight with amusement and Grace’s alight with… something else.

“It just snapped…” He explained.

“It’s okay. We all mess up, right MOM?” Hazel asked, smiling at Simon.

“Yeah, Haze, but he didn’t mess up. Sometimes, people deserve it.” She took Simon’s swinging hand in hers as the ex-fan rushed off crying and complaining about pressing charges. “Let’s get back to my folks so I can tend to this.” She kissed his hand and smiled at him. He smiled back, swelling with pride. Hazel took his other hand and kissed it. These two hand kisses were very separate and different things. But, both mattered to him more than anything in the world.

“I lost my patience, but i don’t feel bad. Nobody’s gonna hurt either of you, as long as I’m there. You ARE Grace’s REAL daughter.”

“I know that, Simon. I’m yours too,” she said with the casual shrug of her shoulders, but he knew that it was a huge thing for Hazel to say such a thing.

.

Simon got to hold the and he was extremely enchanted. "Grace! He's so beautiful. Oh my God. He looks just like YOU!"

Mrs. Monroe offered, "Or, he looks like ME? Grace got her beautiful genetics from me."

"Yes, Mrs. Monroe. You look like Grace, too," he said, not turning away from the baby in his arms. She frowned and folded her arms. "Grace, if we have a baby, I hope they look just like Monty!"

"His name isn't Monty," Mrs. Monroe said. "It's Montanus. It means mountainous. He's the highest point of my life."

"Wow, Mom. Screw me then, huh?" Grace joked. This kid really WAS precious.

Mrs. Monroe said, "You put me through months of HELL, and quite frankly depression and misery. But… after a very long and painful journey pity of my body, we looked at each other and I felt like seeing your face delivered me from all of the worst of all of that. I'd been given grace, and I told your father after he snuck that hideous photo of me gawking at you that would be your name. We were going to call you Soleil. Like the Sun. But, I met you and I said, No. This is my Grace." Mrs. Monroe cupped Grace's chin and Grace smiled while Simon's eyes watered.

"That's a beautiful story." He nuzzled Grace with his nose and whispered, "I can't wait until we have a beautiful birth story."

"You certainly CAN wait," Mrs. Monroe said and eyed him up and down.

"So, you put Grace in THAT dress and let me look at THIS baby and you think I'm NOT going to think about knocking her up?"

"He's joking. We don't even do that,"Grace said.

"Doesn't mean I'm joking. LOOK at him, Grace. This has got to be the most beautiful baby that has ever lived!"

Grace scoffed, "Um. No. I'm sure that was me as a baby."

"I don't know… I can't imagine any baby ever looking more adorable than this one." He shook his head and looked at him, then pulled him close to hold against himself.

He heard Mrs. Monroe whisper, "I think he thinks he's ready for one." He shut his eyes to listen to the infant breathe. He… hadn't held a baby since he had been helped in holding Hope when he was a little boy. He'd had a similar reaction to her… but he didn't know what she looked like anymore and he didn't even have feelings for her anymore. He remembered her as someone who was lost way too soon, someone that he accidentally hurt, someone who would remind him to always handle the innocent with extra care. "I would kill for you," he whispered and kissed Montanus'" head. For his own. For Hazel. For Grace.

Grace wondered, "Can I hold him?" The way that he was feeling about this baby… He didn’t want to let him go… but then again, Grace was still not wanting kids and Simon rationalized that holding “Monty” was gonna change that for her, so he reluctantly handed him over in the hopes that she might be swayed. “Wow…” She said staring into big brown eyes, like her own but more bright and full of wonder. He reached out for her and she let him hold her finger. “Okay. I absolutely want one,” she joked. Simon smiled. He knew the feeling, even though he also knew that SHE didn’t really mean it. She did have a point, they still hadn’t actually had sex. They had… done a lot. Very gradually over the past year and a half, but not that and she seemed to get anxious whenever things approached it. Simon always stopped and confirmed whether or not she wanted to do more. That out that he gave her, she always took it. It was why he kept checking. He worried that if he didn’t, she might just go along with things, and that could be something else to resent him for down the line. Affirmative consent. It was a small price to pay to keep the amount of trust that HAD been rebuilt intact, and maybe someday it would pay off.

Someday was closer than he’d thought. They eventually surrendered that baby back to his parents and Hazel, not wanting to cry jealousy, but feeling a way retired to her room to meditate and write before bed.

Simon and Grace retired to her room, afterwards. “I am lovesick with baby fever,” Grace said. He was on her like prey, with his hands sliding up her sides and his nose tracing her neck. “Slow down, Gray Eyes,” she said with a chuckle, looking at them in the vanity mirror. How many times had they looked at themselves in that mirror when they were younger? It was never like this… They didn’t even look the same to her. They didn’t feel the same, but somehow, everything was all coming back to her, just being in here, with him.

The good and the bad. Luckily, she would be able to say goodbye early in the morning and not see him for a couple of weeks. Tonight could just be… fun. She tried to push out the old thoughts, the old fights, the old Grace and Simon. They were Simon and Grace before The Apex and they had become another Grace and Simon. New and improved.

“This dress really isn’t helping in the “slow down” department.”

“I’ve gained a little weight,” she said, a little self consciously.

“Mmm hmm,” he said, appraisingly, tracing but not touching the curves of her cleavage. She hadn’t given him permission. Simon was very disciplined, now. Very diligent in not crossing any boundaries, but he certainly danced the fine line.

“Will you please help me out of this dress?” She whispered, not taking her eyes off of the obediently trained blond man in her mirror.

“Yes, ma’am.” He carefully unclasped the back and slowly unzipped, revealing each inch of her skin with utmost reverence and full throttle desire, contained, but entirely visible as she studied his face. She stepped out of the dress and carefully placed it aside. He noted that specifically, because he remembered how she used to just toss them on the floor. He was making more and more notes of how much more thoughtful she was about her things and surroundings. “Grace?”

“Yes, Simon?” she was cleaning off her makeup, still in her undergarments and halo crown.

“I just wanted to thank you for letting me back in. I know that it takes a very big person to be able to do that and I’m grateful that you’re so big of a person and I’m also proud of you. You’ve changed a lot in a lot of ways that I tried to stop before, because I was scared that you’d outgrow me and leave me behind if you came to be this bigger person. I’m glad that I’ve realized that becoming a better you was exactly what type of person who could give me another chance. It makes me want to be a bigger, better person. It makes it easy for me to be good, and I’ve realized that I do it for you, but also for myself. I feel better, and I just want you to know that you’ve done so much towards that.”

She wanted to make a joke about how he must’ve really wanted some tonight to be spilling all of this, but he was so genuine, she was entirely too touched. Between that and his protecting Hazel earlier, not to mention Hazel claiming him?

She set her cloth down, turned around and kissed him. No other response was needed.

The kissing grew, she didn’t break apart while they carefully made their way to the bed and… well… it wasn’t really a discussion or a question. The time had come. Simon opened his mouth to confirm that she was sure and she silenced him with her lips while she took off his clothes.

At every point that he wanted to ask her for permission, she took initiative while simultaneously kissing him to stop the question. If she thought too hard about it, if he asked her about it, she would think too hard about it - If she thought too hard about it, it might never happen.

At some point, she began crying. Simon panicked. He tried to pull out, but she clasped him tightly with her legs and held on to him, sobbing into his ear. Were they happy tears, or had he made a mistake? It was fucking with him. “Grace?” he whispered, slowing down, at least. She urged her hips to make him speed back up and he started crying too. “I don’t know if I’m doing something wrong!” he whimpered, terrified of her tears right now.

“Does… it mean something to you, Simon?” She asked in an insecure voice that he hadn’t heard in so long that he forgot how she sounded when she wasn’t sure of herself.

He lifted his head to look her in the eyes, moving her chin to face him so that she couldn’t avoid it.

“Everything. It means everything to me, Grace. You mean everything to me.”

She sobbed and began to move her hips again, somehow holding on even tighter to him. “Never let me go again. Never push me away.”

“I promise. I won’t. I swear on my life.”

She’d mentioned before that her period was that weekend, but she wasn’t on it. The stress of touring probably knocked her off of her schedule. At any rate, she wasn’t one it, as she had planned to be. That worked out perfectly for Simon that night, but he wasn’t even thinking about those details at the moment. He had to spend the rest of the night making sure that she knew things wouldn’t be like they had been before.

A couple of weeks later when she came home from the tour, Hazel and Simon had her welcome home party under way. It was lowkey - just the 3 of them and the cat. Simon cooked everyone’s faves, and they didn’t ask tour questions. Hazel kept using “Mom” and “Dad,” despite the official paperwork. Grace felt super at ease, considering.

“Hey… We have to talk about something, as a family…” Hazel and Simon looked at each other, both a little worried, as she sounded super serious out of nowhere. Did something happen to her on the tour? Were they about to have to kick somebody’s ass? What was she about to say?? “I have an announcement…” She took a deep breath and took something that she had on her person out.

Simon gasped and got up to rush over. Hazel asked, “What is that?? What’s the announcement??”

Simon took both of Grace’s hands and searched her face, “What do you want to do? You know I’ll support anything. If you aren’t ready, I understand…”

“UNDERSTAND WHAT?? WHAT IS THAT, MOM???”

“I’m ready,” Grace told Simon, then to Hazel, “Mom’s… having a kid…” She winced, unsure of how Hazel was going to feel about a bio on the horizon. She SCREAMED. “OMG! Lindsay and Lucy are gonna be JEALOUS. SO JEALOUS! Lindsay thinks her kinkajou is SOOOO cool… and it is, but I’m gonna have a SIBLING! Oh… unless we’re being quiet?”

“For a while. I’m still… taking it all in…” Grace said. She looked at Simon. She was scared shitless.

“I’m going to do whatever you need.”

“I know. I trust you with my life.” He smiled brighter than anything she had ever seen. She collected Hazel and him, “Both of you.”


	33. We're on This Wild Train for Life

Grace didn’t know what it was about this cushioned seat on Simon’s back porch, by the outdoor fireplace, but she had missed that little spot more than her own home. They were in that sweater weather portion of the season, right before New York became un-entertainingly cold, so she was out there with feet covered in her homemade dancers feet balm, her therapeutic socks, cozy slippers, a pair of pajama shorts and one of Simon’s hoodies. **  
**

She had been speaking with her product company about releasing pregnancy products. Partially because this was the company that she trusted more than any other company in the world, and partially because now she realized the huge demographic of people that she wasn’t catering to. Sure, most of the products that they featured were good for pregnant women too, but the hassle of checking ingredients because certain natural items aren’t recommended during certain trimesters and so on was already exhausting her, and she had only been doing this for a few weeks, now. Also, Simon. Simon was exhausting her.

Having been back in town for one week, she already was ready for him to get his ass to California and out of her hair. Everything that she did, he asked her if she checked to see if it was okay. She had. She had SPECIFICALLY done so because she knew that Simon would go into the “Virgo Mode,” of his cusp, about it. She had checked and she made her decisions. She would tell him that… And his ass would then check for himself, to verify that she hadn’t misunderstood any information. So, right now, she was having tea in secret while he was handling making sure that Hazel had everything she would need for the school year.

The door opened and Grace stashed her tea in the cushion. “It’s me,” Hazel said. She pulled it back out, but watched the door for Simon. “I don’t understand why you’re sneaking tea. You checked to make sure that the type and amount that you’re having is safe.”

“Tell that to Sir Suck-the-Fun in there,” Grace said. Hazel laughed. “What’s good, Haze?”

“The school year is getting ready to start, and Simon is getting ready to be spending some time in California, but… you’ve got a baby in your belly.”

Grace shook her head, “It’s not a baby yet.”

“Not my point. Simon is the one that really wanted to have a baby in the first place, but if he’s as hands on with his movie as he plans to be, he won’t be able to be here as much. And you being pregnant probably won’t be able to go back and forth that much. And me being here in school, probably won’t be able to see you two that much…”

“Hazel. You know that Simon and I would never leave you out of decisions that involve you and both of us are committed to doing what’s in your best interest.”

“I’m not worried that decisions to hurt me will be made.”

“Well… Simon is a little bit high strung. That’s why I’m sneaking the tea, but I also won’t do anything that might harm myself or the pregnancy. Simon’s just being anal about things.”

“I’m not worried that you’ll be a danger to yourself or the baby.”

“Well… Maybe I should have just asked - what’s troubling you?”

“Simon has been working really hard on making sure all his little ducks were in a row, so that he could have as efficient a schedule for all of his movie stuff, still be able to work to make a living while he’s doing that, make as much time as humanly possible for his family - us - and also to remember to take care of himself, since apparently, if he forgets, he could have an episode…” Hazel looked extremely worried and ran out of breath saying everything. Now, she was just catching it. “I’m worried that the baby is gonna throw everything off for him and he’ll have to make a choice and whatever choice he makes will hurt him and make him…” She whispered, “Have a really dark time again.”

“Baby…” Grace reached for her, trying to pull her onto her lap and asked, “Are you too big to sit on my lap now?”

“Kinda.”

“I sit on Simon’s lap all the time and I’m bigger than you.”

“Not by much!” 

Grace laughed and collected her into a hug, “You don’t have to worry about things like that. Simon and I have each other’s backs. But, whenever I talk to him about these concerns, what things would you want him to know?”

Hazel leaned back to rest her head on Grace’s shoulder and she fiddled with Grace’s hands. “I want him to know that being at school here and around my friends isn’t as important to me as being with my family. The tour was one thing, because it was going to be a few months. The movie might take a few years, plus things are starting out with you... like that... and I know he’s not gonna wanna be far away from all of us for too long. I want him to know that me taking a year out of my school and community so that we can be together isn’t gonna be a problem for me.”

Grace kissed her on the hair and said, “Okay. I will.” Hazel stood up and pointed to Grace’s mug, which she emptied into her mouth and handed over to her daughter. 

“I’ll send him out.”

Simon definitely looked like he needed a breather whenever he came outside, sporting another one of his hoodies, a pair of cargo pants, boots…”Where are you going?” She wondered.

“It’s cold out here,” he said and sat down. “You should have on some pants…” 

“No,” she said, frowning at him. He sighed and smiled softly, “Hey. Si, come here…” She pulled him to her in a similar way that she had with Hazel, letting his head rest on her shoulders, her arms wrap around him from the back and interwove their fingers. He was tense, so she added a leg around him for a little extra umph. She felt weeks of stress slide off of him and he softened against her body. “So… Hazel wants us to come to California with you during the pregnancy, so we won’t all be stressing ourselves out to make time for each other from across the country.”

He sat up abruptly, but she didn’t let go and sat up with him, settling both of her legs around from the back now and talking into his ear, her lips touching his earlobe, “She’s worried that you’re already putting way more on yourself than necessary and says that she’s fine to leave her friends for a little bit to have the family together. Think about it, I’m barely off tour, and now we have this huge adjustment added to all of the adjustments that working on this movie is going to be for you.” He squirmed. This position and plot was new. He didn’t have any kind of resistance built up to whatever Grace was pulling right now. 

He managed to find his voice, “Hazel needs structure. It’s bad enough that she won’t go to see about this potential hormone issue.”

“This sounds like something that we should have already discussed, but then again like something that I am just now hearing about...” 

Simon sighed and shimmied away so that he could see her face. “She was hypothetically asking me about some problems that she seemed concerned may have arisen with her from starting her period. She was acting like she was just curious, but whenever I went through her search history, there was a lot of stuff about period rage or ‘Why am I angry and suicidal on my period?’ and I asked her if she was writing a story about someone with this situation, and she long windedly lied to me about it. It’s definitely about her.”

“You snooped! I told you not to do that, Simon!”

“You told me not to snoop through her things, but checking the history of her search bar is part of my administrative duties with overseeing her social media,” he said, casually. They had NEVER discussed that part, but that meant that she couldn’t say that it was a violation. 

Grace figured that since Hazel was having issues with speaking to them about whatever it was that she would leave it to professionals. She scheduled a gynecology appointment for Hazel to coincide with her next OBGYN appointment and let the doctor know about Simon’s conversation with Hazel and what he found, but asked her to be certain simply to focus on the information (basically not to tell Hazel that they already knew that she was facing a problem), because Grace didn’t want her to feel like anything was wrong if the doctor didn’t think anything was wrong.

Ultimately, Hazel was put on some hormone stabilizers to help control her periods and her feelings while on them. Her talks with the therapist afterwards were very different. Hazel was much better and wished that she had been more forthcoming about her issues before the visit to the doctor. 

.

For the time being, they made arrangements to relocate to California the week before Christmas, because the Monroes were buying a luxury camper for Grace, but of course they were welcome in the Monroe mansion anytime. 

Their 25th birthdays were “nonfactors” this year, as Simon had to make arrangements that were virtually inhumane to be able to so all of the things he set as his goals, and Grace researched all of the references for professionals in both the Bay and the Los Angeles areas from her connects there and other sites on finding Black female professionals… and she seemed to hit the jackpot.

At A New Page Childcare Center, there were actually all Black female professionals for all your baby having or making needs. It was a bit out of the way, but Dr. Charlotte Dunlop, the founder and medical biochemist on site spoke with her personally about the professionals that were in the building, or on site and Grace was able to connect with an OBGYN for herself, a gynecologist for Hazel, and even meet and speak with others in the center. 

They had private practices, but assisted clients in finding each other, if their line of work wasn’t the best decision. In one general area there was an OBGYN, pediatrician, gynecologist, a fertility specialist, and a waiting room caretaker. On the site, there was an agency for surrogacy, one for adoption, and an onsite daycare with personally vetted childcare providers for the employees’ children. Also, A New Page frequently held workshops on site available for training in doula and midwife work, becoming foster parents, and NUMEROUS paid internships in every single one of the areas in the place.

Grace LOVED it and she loved that the founder and her made quick friends, so she was able to ask her questions about celebrity accommodations and such. Charlotte hadn’t yet taken them into deep consideration, but the Monroes made a contribution to the center to begin exploration of celebrity birthing houses. Grace would be the first to have the experience with what Charlotte could conjure up for them. She was excited to get her New York staff in contact with the California professionals to ensure a seamless transition for her move. 

Simon was staying with his father when he wasn’t in a trailer at the studio, but he spent a lot of time at Grace’s parents, too. He’d post photos of himself babysitting Monty and even sometimes having him in a pouch on him while he worked. The Nanny still got paid, even when Simon “took him off of her hands,” and Simon was rarely ever compromising about it. “I’m taking Monty today,” he’d say, picking the infant up and putting him in the baby pouch that he arrived in. “I’ve got a baby seat and baby bag for him already.” 

The first time, they struggled, as she knew who Simon was but had not been told that he was permitted to take the baby with him. She made several alarming phone calls when he told her to move out of his way before she made him late and she noticed that he had the baby in one hand and the other was a fist. 

Mrs. Monroe had a discussion with him about it and gave the Nanny a stimulus to forgive his distasteful display of emotions. Now, he just stopped by and took him, without much interference. The Nanny would remind him to text her when he was on his way back and usually spend the day elsewhere.

In October, he went to the old pumpkin patch. They hadn’t been since the thing that happened whenever they were 14. He missed that tradition and hoped that they could bring Hazel and Ivory back at some point. He took a photo and posted it:

_This is the place that I first fell in love at._

Grace commented, “Oh, shit! Is that our old pumpkin patch? I miss that place. We should go sometime.” It sparked conversations and questions, of course. If he fell in love there and Grace recognized it as their spot, that meant it was her! But, the excitement died down after a few days and everyone eventually reminded themselves and each other that Grace and Simon never once denied that they used to be in love, so this wasn’t a really big win, even though it felt amazing for the shippers for a few days.

But, they had a way of feeding them..

She posted a photo of her in a pair of jeans that Hazel had made artwork on in all shades of fabric paints for Grace’s recently passed birthday. Grace was putting on a little bit of weight, but they still fit nicely and she wanted to show off as well.

_Grace: Do these pants make my booty look big?_

_Simon Laurent "liked"_

_Fan: Did Simon just...?_

_Simon: Like a pic of a delicious butt? Yeah._

_Fan: ashkyllllhkfgfkhhhbnufjglxh_

_Simon: The jeans by @hazelofdoetry are also very impressive._

_Guest: Thirst trap. 😒_

_Simon: I promise, she wasn't trying to impress you, whoever you must be._

_Guest: She has young fans._

_Simon: She makes songs about eating her out and music videos with lap dancing, but it was the pants her daughter designed that young fans would be corrupted by? 🤔_

_Guest: She shouldn't be doing those things either with young girls looking up to her._

_Simon: I thought for sure that would tell you her fan base isn't supposed to be children, but I guess it takes some people a moment. Take your time, Sweetheart. The Internet is forever._

_Guest: I just think it's gross._

_Simon: See my first response. Au revoir tho._

_Fan: Those pants make it look like a meal! I'll bet Simon is ready to stick his whole face in that thing._

_Simon Laurent "liked"_

_Guest: Simon, you really eat ass???_

_Simon: Do you not?_

_Fan: That's probably how he won her back._ 😂😂😂

 _Simon:_ 😏

 _Hazel: Delete this._ 🤮

_Simon: *Deletes comment (after he takes a screenshot)_

“Somebody needs to be an admin for HIS social media!” Hazel said. 

Grace just laughed, “He’s always loved the attention. That’s part of his Leo Mode. Also, being protective. Some of those he thinks he’s defending me. He used to do it all of the time and I was very amused, but I don’t know… It’s sometimes flattering, sometimes frightening, depending on how the conversation goes.”

“He’s doing this on your post, though. And it was supposed to be about the pants.”

“Well, I love the pants.” Grace kissed her on the hair.

_Commenter: Grace Monroe can kick me in the face and spit in my mouth and I'd thank her._

_Simon: She's not into that._

_Commenter: What's she into?_

_Simon: Cunnilingus and tea._

_Grace: Which, can be found out in my song (presents link to Cooze and Chamomile)_

_Simon “liked”_

_Grace: Simon, get off my post, Dude._

.

November 5th, Simon was in New York. There was no way that he was missing another anniversary, ever in life, even if Grace wasn’t as much as a stickler for dates and celebration times. Currently, there wasn’t anything needed for him for the movie, and he could do his tech work from anywhere, but he would have to deal with his father’s mourning if he stayed there and every reason to see Grace and Hazel was a good one. 

He made a post about his mother, on the anniversary of her death. It wasn’t a tribute. It was more honest. He spoke about how he hadn’t been able to mourn her when she died and he still wasn’t mourning her now. He confessed that his opinion of women and his relationships to them had not been healthy and probably because he had such a bad relationship with his mother. 

“Even the problems that I had with my best friend were manifestations of my poor translation of women and how to handle them. I was fortunate that even at my worst when I did the most wrongs in my life, there was still a future where I was able to be reunited with my best friend. So, whenever I think of my mother dying, I don’t think that I’ll ever really grieve losing her. Instead, I choose to remember that the poison that I took and used against women didn’t kill me and didn’t kill us. Thank you for being the best friend in the world. I never want to be on this train without you. Happy November the 5th, Grace.”

He posted a photo of them from when they were 14 at the pumpkin patch and they recreated the photo for the current year to put side by side. The fans were lovestruck. They loved even the smallest pieces of Grace in Simon’s world, and this was the first time (even in their 2 year relationship that had never been confirmed) that Simon had posted a current photo of himself and Grace together… so his fans got their entire lives from this and began sending Grace “Happy November the 5th!” messages and comments. 

She escalated it to a broad extent whenever she posted a short video of herself singing the chorus of [Anniversary](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aLc1mZF_LYg) by Tony Toni Tone, in the same outfit of the recreation photo (noting that they either took that photo that day or she purposefully wore the same outfit on the day that he posted). Either way, the fans were READY for ship fanfare. But, Grace disabled her comments and messaging. She didn’t intend to change it back, either. 

Fans went wild on other sites, but she had become pretty resolved in not responding to things whenever she didn’t want to. For the most part, it gained her even more followers. People who had not really been paying attention to her before now were tuning in (possibly just to see shipping content), but also the Esmoroth fandom began to show up more. She didn’t even like them, but there they were. The reverse didn’t happen as much. There weren’t a lot of Grace fans that automatically were interested in following Simon Laurent, though some fans loved them both, most were either/or and that changed after November the 5th to only Simon’s fans suddenly caring about Grace.

They were a wild bunch in a different way than her fans were, so she tended to distance herself more. She wasn’t going to be working through her pregnancy, because she was fearful of something going wrong. She had read too many horror stories and panicked herself into thinking she would not only probably have a horrible pregnancy, but a terrible labor, as well.

For that fear, she was in very regular communication with the New Page Hotline, and going to spend the entire pregnancy doing all of the statistically best things for herself, including avoiding stress… like social media. 

She would still create content and make posts, but she would not be accepting feedback from strangers. Her favorite content to put out were photoshoots and dance videos. Hazel had instructors for the time being, so with Grace not working and Hazel not being in school, they would spend time making choreography and music, or Hazel would be doing artwork and costume aid, and Grace was brushing up on editing videos, since she hadn’t made her own like this since high school.

But she really got into it after leaving New York and getting back to the Bay’s less cold fall and winter. She began to recreate old music videos from r&b, hip hop, and Black pop music icons. Most of them were Janet Jackson, but that was because there just were too many great ones to choose from! Sometimes, Hazel was her dance partner. They did [Scream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0P4A1K4lXDo&list=PLwIiI5b256zfvWeCsADngf-veehwJdb5J&index=7&t=0s&app=desktop) in which Hazel took on being MJ and Grace, Janet. Grace would always be Janet. (Fun Fact: Grace met her best friend in New York whenever she noticed that her name was Damita and said, “Like Janet Damita Jo Jackson?” Which, yes her friend was named after!)

Grace did many iconic photo reenactments too. So, if she didn’t feel like learning choreography (or if a video didn’t really have much, but the look was on point), she simply made herself into the star and posted the photos with stills from the video, or an accompanying album or magazine cover, if that was what she was aiming for. 

Her most popular one was a [Donna Summer](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/41NYER5KD5L._AC_UL600_SR600,600_.jpg) recreation, sitting on the moon in a white dress for Four Seasons of Love. It was a gorgeous photo and Mrs. Monroe had a vintage dress just like it for her to use, as well as a photographer, instead of Grace or Hazel snapping it themselves. But. The thing that a lot of the fans seemed to really notice was what they could not rationalize as anything other than a baby bump. 

_Is Grace Monroe preggo??? Look at these recent photos! I'm pretty sure this is a baby bump!!! And Simon has been in her tags a lot again... Y'all. Y'ALL. If Grace and Simon are pregnant... Y'ALL!!!_

_All of Grace's comments are disabled._ 😔

Since Grace’s comments were unavailable, posts were made about it, reposts were made, Simon’s notifications were blown up, Hazel’s page was invaded, then promptly overtaken by administrators to purge unwanted messages and comments. 

Simon was at-ed more than he could ever recall. Almost all of them was, "Is Grace Monroe pregnant?" With many others being, "Is Grace's baby yours?" And some just saying, "Congratulations on your baby with Grace!!!" 

Whenever he got online, he would reply to whichever ones happened while he was there with information about where to purchase his books and articles or videos covering the fact that he was working on a movie.

Some days, he would reply with plugging Grace or Hazel's media.

He also took to making posts about "The Princess," which people would try to guess if that meant Grace, Hazel, his cat, or somebody on set. 

_"The Princess just ate my entire dozen cheddar peppers after asking if she could have one. Lesson: Learn to tell people no."_

_"Note to self, "No" does not apply to the Princess. I tried it with hash browns this morning. She looked me right in my eyes as she violated both my wishes and my trust."_

_"Then she asked me what I'd said and claimed she couldn't hear my answer. She was looking right at me when I said no._ 😒 _No means no, Princess!"_

_"The Princess can sleep outside tonight. She has gas."_

Hazel reposted that one with crying emojis… that didn't help anybody to know whether or not that meant she was this princess spoken of. Simon got a kick out of saying things, watching people react and screenshotting the most amusing ones.

Hazel wondered, "Why do you keep provoking them?"

"Because I am in control of this and only this in my life. I need an outlet after being a servant boy for you and your mom and groveling in front of the studio execs and the tech company managers all the time."

"Servant boy? You haven't done a thing for me in months!"

"I do stuff for you all the time, you just don't know it! Who do you think is doing your laundry and refilling your prescriptions while your mom is getting costumes made to be every member of TLC for her No Scrubs homage?"

Hazel gasped, “She told me that I could be in that one! I’m supposed to do the rap!”

Simon nodded, “You are, you are. The way that I understand it, you're doing the rap and wearing one of the Left Eye? outfits… and she's wearing a different one for her parts." 

Hazel was consoled and Simon went back to assess his online mayhem. 

“Thanks, by the way. For doing stuff for me all the time..”

“Pssshht. There’s no need to thank me for that, Hazel. That’s one of my Dad functions.”

“Well, it’s less visible than Mom’s functions, so I overlooked it. I just don’t want to be that type of kid. Mom gives me a lot of material stuff and sometimes TOO much affection, and she spends a lot of time collaborating with me and letting me be involved in so much of her world. Love is through the roof, and then all the stuff she buys me all the time. Me and you… we weren’t born into that, you know? I want to stay humble and be good.”

He set his phone down and said, “I know that you’re a good kid, Hazel. You’re pretty spoiled, but that’s not a bad thing. You can have everything in the world and still be a good person. Your mom is. And I know it's a common thought that she’s that way because she was broken down, but she was a good person before then, too.”

“Were you a good person before then? Before coming too close to all of this?”

He looked stunned by that question. He put his hands between his knees and shuffled his feet. “I was… a child. I was a child before then, and for a while after. I came into manhood as a child who thought he was a man. A bad child, by that time, but…” he shrugged. “You aren’t like me, Hazel. You have nothing to worry about.”

She sighed, “I’m more like you than I’m like her and I’m not like her either. Do you think I’m like my bioparents?”

“I think you’re like Hazel. It took genes from the bios, love and funds from Mom, support and solidarity from me, and worlds of other experiences, relationships, and witnessed events to make you exactly who you are. You don’t have to be like anybody else, because all of us had different things that went into us being who we are. Being Hazel is perfect for you, because you’re Hazel.”

She smiled, “Okay, but I really do wanna know how you troll like you troll…” He picked up his phone and she peeked over his shoulder as he went back to his page. “ Can I use that phrase?” she asked pointing. He nodded. “Yes!”

.

Simon had been off of the Internet for almost a couple of months whenever his family finally arrived in California on Christmas week. Grace ran up to him and practically tackled him when she jumped to hug him. She gasped and smiled, “Are you growing a beard???”

He scoffed, “No. I’ve just been so caught up with work and holiday shit…” She pouted and he brushed it against her to give her a little tickle, “Unless you like it.”

“I’ll like it better when it’s a real beard,” she said, but she was already strumming it lovingly. He smiled brightly, hugged Hazel, and wrapped an arm around both of them as they walked to the car.

He and Mrs. Monroe had already planned the Christmas week festivities. Mr. Monroe would be making his way back home by the 23rd, and Mr. Laurent would be in the guest house and welcomed into the main house during certain hours.

Grace was extremely excited about finally seeing her luxury camper, but Mrs. Monroe didn’t have it on site, because she wanted it to be a very big reveal. Grace was honestly ready to just enjoy family time and receive gifts, but of course, her mother NEEDED to be extra…

There was a Black Nativity scene in the yard with wax figures that were CLEARLY meant to be her parents and Montanus. The entire grounds were decorated in white lights and angels. “This woman and her celestial obsessions,” Grace said as Simon drove up the path. In the yard, an entire life size display of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” had been set up and the front door and entryway were decorated with winter greenery and crystal snowflakes. 

The whole week was family time, yet Mrs. Monroe was always dressed to the nines, in what Grace couldn’t help but to call a “Mother Christmas costume” and she, Simon, and Hazel kept making undercover Jingle Jangle jokes. Hazel even told her that next year, she should use it as an inspo for the house. Mrs. Monroe was not familiar with this movie, so Hazel told her that they would watch it as a family. (Not one of the woman’s favorite things to do, but she did things for Hazel that she didn’t always love). 

Grace made a Christmas Eve video of herself and the Ballerina Princess from The Nutcracker and the Four Realms and yes, at 5 months, nobody could deny that the ballerina in that post was definitely carrying a baby! It threw her balance off a little bit, but she still felt confident enough to post. 

Simon and Hazel also disabled feedback from strangers for the holidays and Mrs. Monroe, while she never ever interacted with any of the people online, she always “overshared,” in Grace’s opinions. 

All of the fans found her page and began to try to get their content there. They still wouldn’t get answers, but the woman posted numerous photos (well, she had people for that, at least). 

So, the entire Christmas week, family times, and celebration was all over her page (and Mr. Laurent’s), including photos, where you could see Grace in Simon’s lap in the background or something as affectionate. Mr. Laurent took many photos of Simon with Hazel and Monty, and usually with proud father captions. He was very open with speaking with the fans, too, but he would say things like, “Grace has asked us not to talk about personal things,” if he was flat out asked about her being pregnant or Simon being the father. 

Mr. Monroe had social media these days, but he didn’t use it. He had someone for that and it was mostly business related and reputation maintenance. So, nobody from this universe really followed him. 

.

Christmas Eve was always going to be a special time for Simon and Grace too. In addition to having their first family holiday a couple of years back, that was whenever Grace started trying to trust exploring more things with Simon physically. She was very much so ready for another night to remember with him. She made a short post before bed that night or herself rapping along to a song, “Dance on the d**k, now, you been served. I like a d**k with a little bit of curve. Hit this p***y with an uppercut. Call that n***a Captain Hook,” and she stuck her tongue out and ended the video. A little unspoken Christmas gift to the fans. THEY WERE GONNA LOSE IT, and Simon would love that.

Simon was walking up right when she was finishing up. After she posted, she noticed that they probably saw a blur of him in the background, but not too much. “Ready for bed, Princess?”

“Ready for booty, Captain Hook?” He blushed and took her hands to help her up. “I missed you,” she said and snuggled up to him before they got into bed.

They had been at it for while when Grace stared at Simon with a look of worry on her face and he froze and asked, “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. You looked… disengaged. Are you thinking about something else?” It was her small, insecure voice.

“Just… being the best that I can be for you and our family.” He kissed her on the forehead. “Nothing bad…” She still looked worried. “What’s worrying you?”

“I don’t know. We don’t do this often and when we do, the most significant times have been in this room and this room has a lot of history. My moods fluctuate between the energy that it’s taken and given me over the years.”

He nuzzled his nose against her and whispered in her ear, “I may have not been thinking about this,” he punctuated the word with a thrust and she yelped. “But, I was still thinking about you. Grace, I adore you with every atom that I’m made up of. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, physically, metaphysically, unconditionally… Every area of my life, I think about you and how we fit into whatever track lies ahead. We’re on this wild train for life, yeah?”

She sniffled and nodded, “Yeah.” 

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” She tightened her arms around him. “I love you, Simon.” He met that declaration with a kiss and the resuming of thrusts.

.

Christmas morning Grace wasn’t sure WHY she didn’t expect this, but she didn’t expect someone to have a camera and be following Hazel as she rushed into the room to wake them, calling, “It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!” She wasn’t sure why she didn’t expect to see workers setting up the feast table in the dining room while they opened presents in the living room. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t expect to see her parents dressed up in their finest night clothes, but clearly worked on for photographs. Mr. Laurent was the only one who came out looking like a real person. Grace and Simon did a rush job, knowing better than to just come as they were. They had their Christmas morning pajamas and fixed their hair and faces like they were about to go somewhere. 

Simon loved having Christmas with rich people. The Monroes’ Christmas budget was always more than even his life was worth, and just watching the types of things that they purchased for each other was always mind blowing. Now, he was a part of it.

Mrs. Monroe reminded them that she would arrange a moving truck, whenever they were ready to bring everything back to their New York home, but Simon was positive that they could cart it on a trailer on the camper, whenever that time came. 

Among the plethora of gifts exchanged, she had hundreds of designer clothing from her days as an international supermodel restored for Grace’s vintage wardrobe collection, and some from her and Grace’s childhood done for Hazel. Hazel was flabbergasted, wondering where in the world would she ever wear ANYTHING like the things that she was looking at on this elegant clothing rack. Grace was already thinking of photoshoots she would do after the baby in hers.

Hazel and Montanus got the most gifts, being the children, but Grace and Simon had QUITE a bit from the Monroes, as well. Mr. Laurent was simply glad to be included, but Simon bought him some nice things. He didn’t hate him the way that he used to, and felt sorry for him sometimes… because what went wrong in his relationship never actually got fixed.

The camper was designed to look sort of like a white and gold carriage. It gave her Cinderella’s ride to the ball teas. The inside was as spacious as a house and had every amenity that Grace could think of. She started crying whenever she finally looked at it and her mother looked shocked and confused. “Hormones,” Hazel said, nodding. 

Inside, there was also a scooter stroller that Simon immediately tried out with Montanus. 

“He really acts as though that is HIS baby!” Mrs. Monroe complained. “I don’t know if I’ll be relieved or rejected once his own arrives and he puts more focus on that one.”

“As long as we’re here, Simon is definitely gonna be a Montanus stan. He has his own albums on Simon’s pages.” She proceeded to show Mrs. Monroe all of the photos of Monty and ones with him. “Some of these people think that’s his baby.”

“For heaven’s sake!” She rushed to try to collect the baby from Simon. He glanced back, saw her coming, and began to scoot faster. “Simon Ezekiel Laurent!” the woman called. 

“WHO???” Hazel wondered. “Is… Is his middle name really Ezekiel, or is she just saying a name?”

“No… It’s that other bible dude.” 

_“Simon!”_

_“My middle name is Nathaniel!”_

“Nathaniel! That’s the one.”

_“Well, you got cheated, then because that name is inferior to Ezekiel. Give me back my baby!”_

“GlamMother runs really fast, and she’s old and wearing high heels.”

“She always said she could do anything in the right pair of heels.”

“I’m scared that Simon totally has taken this too far and by the time he stops, he’ll be murdered…” Hazel said, shaking her head.

“SIMON! Stop!” Grace called out. He quickly stopped and looked at her as Mrs. Monroe came up and whenever she collected the baby, she glared at him.

"Innocent fun…" Simon said. 

Mrs. Monroe was tempted to mush his face, but decided her little prince didn't need to see that. "Don't do that again. I'll tackle you to the ground and dig into your ear with my heel."

"Yes, Ma'am." He came over to Grace and Hazel and pouted, "She threatened me with violence." Grace strummed his little beard and he smiled and blushed. Hazel rolled her eyes and tried to fight off a smile.

She and Grace had a streaming party planned with Damita, Shana, Iza and Mikayla to watch some Christmas movies together and chat in the meantime. Mrs. Monroe had settled in a rocking chair in the nursery with Montanus after his bath, to settle him for a nap. 

The evening staff had come in to get rid of the trash and prepare dinner. Simon, his father and Mr. Monroe settled on the terrace and the two older men asked the younger one about work. Simon had actually gotten so many things accomplished since the last time that he was able to talk to them that he felt like he was just making up things and saying words to them. 

He knew that he had a patent pending on his VR choose your psychological adventure program. He knew that the military had purchased plans from him. He knew that he was working on a movie and managing the project with the tech company he worked for, for props and systems that would be used on set… but he felt like he was making it all up. For a moment, he felt like he needed to go find proof of these claims. But, neither of them questioned it. 

His dad told him that he was proud of him and Mr. Monroe said, “I always knew that you would go far.” Simon blushed and she stared out at the view of the estate. Mr. Monroe continued on about how Simon being behind the scenes instead of trying to be a star like Grace was trying to do was smarter and more lucrative. Fortunately, she had companies to fall back on, etc. Simon was still simply reeling. That this was his life, his real life. 

He had done the things that he set out to do, he had a family, and it was growing. He got up and excused himself. He did need another confirmation after all. He peeked into the room at Grace on her laptop and Hazel on hers, lying on her belly, next to her. They were typing and A Diva’s Christmas Carol was playing from their devices. Simon knocked and they both looked up. They smiled at him. “You two need anything?”

“Go enjoy your guys’ time,” Grace said.

“You okay, Dad?” Hazel wondered. 

Simon looked near tears. He pinched his ear and nodded his head. “ I am. I’m good. Love you both.”

They gave each other a confused smile, let out the same awkward chuckle and said in unison, “Love you too..” That was real. This was his life. His wonderful life.


	34. Ivory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for mentions of underage/revenge porn, mentions of eating disorder

_Between Grace making that post of her rapping along to Captain Hook, her saying "aye aye" to Simon in comments, and this photo of Simon's D print in the gray sweatpants, I'm starting to think he's packing a curve_ 👀

_Simon Laurent "liked"_

_Commenter: He is! Did you never see the old sex tape?_

_Poster: The WHAT? No… But, wait… I thought that they dated in school. You mean like something that happened after that?_

_Commenter: They were in school, but it was online for the longest time before she snitched, so I’m sure somebody still has it out there…_

_Poster: That’s gross. I’m not that desperate to see it that I wanna look at some kids doing it. No thank you._

_Simon Laurent “liked”_

_Commenter is blocked by Simon._

.

Grace was in the grocery store with her mother and brother, and Zasha, a white samoyed puppy that Mrs. Monroe had purchased from a breeder… to potentially train to be in competitions, and Zasha’s handler. Why did Mrs. Monroe bring Zasha into the store, just to have someone else hold her? For the same reason that the nanny was also there, tending to Montanus. “Because, that is literally what I pay them to do.” But… we’re at the grocery store and didn’t even have to BRING them! Grace didn’t argue.

However, she did wonder if she was suffering from some type of weird mid life crisis, or just a rich, bored woman whose husband was working more and more all of the time, despite supposedly getting closer to retirement. Then, she wondered if they weren’t doing so well. But, she kept those wonders to herself, as it would frighten her to know whatever the truth was if it was anything other than her mother did whatever she wanted because she could afford to. 

Plus, she wanted to get out of the house, and apparently that had been reduced to tagging along with Grace at the grocery store, in case she needed help. “You’re almost 6 months, correct? How has it been? Online, one would swear that you’re Diahanne Caroll in her prime. You’ve rarely broken a sweat. Is that for your fans?”

Grace shook her head and read the label of something before putting it into her cart, “I haven’t had any problems, except for eating way more than I used to and getting gas, but those calcium chews usually help with that and I bounce right back. You know, I’ve always taken really great care of myself, think things through and pay top dollar for the finest self care. I guess that the baby is pleased with their temporary temple.” She smiled at her mom and noticed the woman looked leery. “I know… you had a very rough pregnancy with me. Believe me, I remember this fact, but I haven’t been having that experience, personally. In fact… Did you know that I’ve gained THOUSANDS of new followers since they’ve seen that I was pregnant. Pregnant people have been asking me what I use for this and for that and I’ve been plugging my brand, since we’ve got the pregnancy line now. It’s been sensational. I’ve had a blast!” 

Grace had been working on a blog about her pregnancy, which she began with a video addressing all of the questions to all of the people who were not her. 

_“Hey, Those That Are Graced!” She’d cheered into the camera, “Happy New Year! I know that I’ve been unavailable to reach out too, and believe me, I do miss interacting with fans and followers, but I am currently not working on my career, to focus on other things in my life. Just to touch base with everyone, I feel like we’ve had this discussion before and those of you who actually respect me would definitely not need it repeated, but there have been so many new faces of possibly unfamiliar followers that I am revisiting notes that I have in all of my bios…_

_First, my professional life is one thing, my private life is another. I extend myself professionally, and over the past few months, even though I have not actually been working, I’ve still been spending time providing everyone with content. Please do not send messages, comments, or questions for me to any of my friends, and especially not to my family members, Hazel in particular. She is 12 and shouldn’t have adults bothering her for information that not only isn’t her concern, but isn’t your concern. She wants to be able to enjoy the limited hours of screen time that she’s allowed. That becomes difficult for her when people are asking her hundreds of questions that literally are related to her mother’s sex life._

_Second, my professional life is offered at my discretion, as well. Whenever there is product that I think you should try, I will announce it. If I’m not familiar with a product or no arrangements have been made for me to try a product or I’m unaware of a product… my comments is not the place for said product. That is including everything from your all natural care supplies, book recommendations, your demos, your dance videos… Like… I LOVE receiving those things, but whenever I open my comments back up, that is not where those things go._

_I have links for email addresses for avenues of business, entertainment, etc on my website, and if nothing else, my website is featured on every form of social media that I have. I am the person who goes through those emails. I am NOT the person who checks my social media messages, so you will never get a response from me through those and run the risk of me not seeing something if you send it there instead._

_Third, my spaces have boundaries and moderators to enforce those boundaries. Whenever you’ve been allowed to be a guest in any of my spaces or my child’s spaces, you treat that shit like Afropunk - “No sexism, no racism, no ableism, no homophobia, no fatphobia, no transphobia, no hatefulness.” And then, since I’m not Afropunk and I have even greater needs, and can’t believe I have to say this much else: No pedophilia, no inappropriate interactions with a minor, no incestuous ideation, and no nudity. My moderators are quick, but not perfect. Your fellow guests and neighbors in my spaces should never have to see jokes about my mother and I engaged in sexual acts together, or worse, my UNDERAGE daughter, and no - Hazel and I posting a dance video is not an invitation for someone to make comments that because she might be fluid in her movements that it is sexually suggestive and if ever we find one of those headass posts where you put a photo of my beautiful daughter up, say something obscene or rude or ask, “Thoughts?” Simon finds out your IP address, sometimes more than that and he doxxes your ass. Ask around. If threats of violence or suggestions of harm are given… he might show up at your house and I don’t know what to even tell you about that one, because I’m not at liberty to say, according to the lawyers.”_

_She smiled, relaxed, unclenched her teeth that she realized had been clenched since she began her greater needs._

_“Fourth, leave Hazel alone. She isn’t going to add you, because she is not allowed to add adults that she does not know. If you follow her public figure pages, those are for her poetry, her brand, her rapping, her artwork, her theater program, and whatever announcements she wants to share with her fans about her personal life, which is usually vague and innocent. If Hazel posts that she had a great time at the premiere of some movie, that is not the place to ask her personal questions. The place to ask her personal questions is nowhere! We don’t have a space created for strangers to ask her personal questions. She sometimes will be allowed to grant an interview, in which she will answer a professional about appropriate questions that have been approved._

_Fifth, shut up about Simon! Shut up about Simon! I swear to you… In the past few years that Simon and I have been in communication and the ones that we’ve been in close communication, I KNOW that you realize that we are communicating, but that falls under my private life, which I have not created a space in the public for._

_Now… you may speak with Simon about whatever things he speaks about in his private life, I can’t control that, but what I can control and do control is what he will or won’t say about me, even in HIS space. Yes. I got it like that, and what will happen, is Simon will be seeing this, and he is very good at remembering details and he will memorize everything that I’ve said here and he will respect that and enforce it, even in HIS space._

_Which leads me to my last thing… There’s a lot of Esmoroth fanfolk in my spaces now and you all act a certain way in your little Esmoroth corner of the Internet… but in here, in Grace’s space, you better act like you’ve been tossed to the feet of the Idol Princess when her pheromones are igniting the internal flame of servitude. Because, we stan the Idol Princess in this space, and you’d better act right.”_

After the release of the 3rd book and return of the Idol Princess aka the Future Queen, several fans were disappointed and had called Simon out for “pandering.” But, several MORE fans came around. He was competing for top spots with the YA novel greats after the 3rd book. But… that also meant more fans to be in Grace’s business. 

Her New Year’s announcement remained pinned at the top of her page and the next post was text, “Oh, yeah. Last but not least, you may have noticed that I’m pregnant. I’ll be featuring some of my favorite findings on my maternity journey here, so please stay tuned if you’re pregnant, expecting, or planning, for what I think and hope will be some helpful tips for your journey!”

Most of the Esmoroth fandom didn’t like her very much, but they also “just couldn’t stay away. Aside from the _Grace in Maternity_ blog, she still didn’t have social media open for commentary, though she did sometimes pass through Simon’s or Hazel’s comments and engaged a little bit with them. She pinned the video to other sites and then just didn’t really visit them again much.

“I could barely walk whenever I was six months pregnant. I had the finest of everything, too,” Mrs. Monroe broke into her thoughts. “Then again, I had what they now call an eating disorder for several years. I… wasn’t completely… well whenever you were announced…” she looked guilty, like she did whenever she faced her own failures as a mother. “We had to get a 24 hour nurse to keep me… healthy. By seven months, I could hardly get out of bed.”

Grace furrowed her eyebrows, “Mom… you’ve never told me that you had an eating disorder. Did you ever get help for it?”

“Help? Oh… like… whenever I had to be rushed to the hospital multiple times? Yes. I got help.”

“MOM… Did you ever _heal?”_

“Wait, are you asking me if I have disordered eating now? Heaven’s no, Grace. I was trapped with your father by the time you were born. I eventually realized that I had to be more… alive and well than I did flawless. We hired a nutritionist and personal chef.”

“Mom… a lot of people need psychological help for something like that.”

“And I come across to you as ‘a lot of people’? Hmph. It’s pathetic enough that I allowed myself to be so weak. I wasn’t going to beg someone to give me the strength I needed.”

“That’s not what it’s like at all…” Grace cupped her mother’s face and said, “There may be things that people need to help you with, Mom. That doesn’t make you weak or whatever else you’ve convinced yourself of. It didn’t make me weak when I needed to get help. It doesn’t make Hazel weak when she needs help…”

Mrs. Monroe waved Grace’s hands off of her face, “As long as you’re fine, have no other concerns.”

“Mom…”

“Were you done with the shopping?” Grace sighed and continued moving. 

.

Simon was pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists. Several of the message boards, every one of his social media platforms, and even at least one of Hazel’s. He’d taken her devices away, but now she was angry and he certainly couldn’t find the words to explain beyond, “You can’t be online right now.” She was scribbling aggressively in one of her paper journals, and fuming. They both were fuming from different but related reasons.

Grace came in with her little shopping entourage and Hazel rushed to her, furiously. 

“Your BOY TOY took my devices DURING screen time and REFUSES to give them back!” Grace’s eyes went wide and she turned to look at Simon, who was pacing and didn’t even seem to hear the accusation, notice that she came in or to see Monty. Something was absolutely wrong here. 

“Help get the groceries and I’ll get your devices, okay?” Grace said and cupped her chin. Hazel was still breathing heavily as she stormed out towards the groceries and Mrs. Monroe settled on the couch. Grace took Simon’s hand and he was startled by her sudden touch. But, the moment he realized it was her, he let out a deep breath and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Hey. Let’s go talk, okay?” She suggested, rubbing his back. He nodded his head, but didn’t move from the spot or lessen his hold on. She squirmed a little bit and said politely, “Oxygen, Gray Eyes..” He let up and rushed out of the room. Grace followed and watched him flop on the bed and cover his face with his fists. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“We’ve been doing SO well…” He said, shaking his head. 

“We have.” _So, this is something that he did wrong?_ “And the only way that we continue doing well is to be open and caring with each other.” He slicked back the wild hairs that weren’t pulled into his ponytail. He appeared to be in a lot of pain, but she had to get whatever this was settled. “Should I go online? Will I see what happened, if I do?” She pulled out her phone, mumbling, “I’m guessing that’s why Hazel’s stuff was confiscate-” He snatched the phone from her hands and she let out a yelp, both at the audacity and the fact that she didn’t even see him get up. 

“No. I have to tell you. You can’t find out on the Internet. SHE can’t get on. She CAN’T!” 

“Why can’t she? Because, she’s pretty pissed and it IS her screen time…”

“Because, the internet is relentless and unkind, and she’s too young to have to deal with how much. Not today. She’ll… I’ll… give her extra time once it's died down.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Simon.”

He frowned, “Someone brought the tape up.” At first, she was confused. _Was this something about the movie? Why would he be so upset as to take Hazel’s…_ “And it’s recirculating again. I’ve been reporting it and fans have been reporting it and it gets taken down, but more and more people have seen it now and it’s just… too much. I don’t want her to run into it…” NOW, she understood. _That tape… which… technically… it was done with a webcam, so it was never a tape, it was a recording, but…_ “I saw it again… not watched it, but you know, saw a portion of it whenever I was reporting it… God…” He sat down on the bed, “You’re a kid, Grace. You had the rounded face and everything…”

“Ummm… You’re a month and a day older than me, Dude.” she said, sitting down, trying to pretend that she was more calm than her heart was allowing. She could barely breathe, thinking about the feelings that just mentioning that used to bring up for her. She wasn’t sure how she might react to seeing it come up somewhere. But, maybe she should try…

She gently took her phone back, despite his struggling. One stern look and he let it go, realizing that she was determined and he was probably already in a lot of trouble, if something had been triggered. She nodded, “Yep, looks like a few people have tagged me, asking me if I saw that somebody posted it…” She went to the video and he clenched the bedspread, moving his legs uncontrollably and looking straight ahead. “You know, a lot of people used to say that you couldn’t see your face in it, that it was out of frame, but it does come into frame a few times…” she said. She paused, “See?” He shook his head. “Simon, you’re not even gonna indulge me a little bit at a time like this?”

His frown deepened and he took another long breath. She was right. SHE was the victim in this. The least he could do was take a look at his disgusting handiwork. He saw himself and he recoiled. “You were a kid, too,” she said. “Sure, at the time, this hurt more than anything my brain can recall. But… I do know, as a grown ass woman, you were wrong and also were a child. Both of those things can be accurate.”

“We’re only a few years older than Hazel, there. If some kid did something like this to her… I would…”

“I would hope that you’d remember that you were their age once and just as bad.”

“Is… is that how you would react?”

“Oh, hell no. I’ve never done anything like this. I’d kill that fucking kid. But, you would have to be the adult that fucking pulls me off of him…” She laughed and scratched at his beard, “But, nothing like this will happen to Hazel. She’s a good judge of character and we know all of her friends.”

“Your parents knew me too, and I think that they’re pretty good judges of character. Your mom at least. She always knew that I was rotten.”

“No she didn’t! She knew that you weren’t rich, and in her head those two things were the same thing. She knew that you were controlling, and she thought that I was going to sacrifice myself for you, but she didn’t think that you were going to straight up try to assassinate my entire character.” He looked away from her, “And NOW, you are very diligent in making sure that you aren’t crossing any lines, with me and with Hazel, my mother, my father, and I think people in general. This wasn’t long enough ago that it’s not hurtful to think about… but it was long enough ago to not beat yourself up over. But… It is a burden that you designed. So, it’s only right that you explain to Hazel exactly why she shouldn’t be online right now.”

Hazel took it so much better than she had taken him taking away her computer and phone. “Are you serious? I’ll just avoid social media. You KNOW I don’t wanna see anything like that, myself, but I already knew that it existed out there somewhere.” She shook her head, “I don’t like the way you look with clothes ON, think I’d run the risk of seeing you without them?” 

Grace suggested, “Is there anything else you want to say to him? Maybe about how you broke the news to me when I got home?”

“Oh..” Hazel flared her nostrils and rolled her eyes, “Sorry I called you Mom’s Boy Toy… You kinda are, but I shouldn’t say it…” 

Simon laughed, mostly because he was relieved that she wasn’t scarred by him having to talk to her about this video resurfacing. “You kidding? I’m gonna put that on a t-shirt.”

“No cap? Because I have SO many where that came from.”

“We’ve gotta brainstorm.”

“Simpsona T-shirts can be your new thing…” And just like that, Grace watched them be best friends again. Hazel could get mad and stay mad for a long time, but she didn’t like to argue, so even whenever she got mad, she tended to stay to herself until she wasn’t. The two of them left to go sit on the swing set outside of the house they were renting, and Grace sat by her mom on the couch. 

“I don’t even want to know what that was about.”

“Cool, because I wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“You don’t have to. One of your “boy toy’s” fans will.” Grace laughed and then threw her head onto her mom’s shoulder. The woman gasped at first, taken aback by the show of affection, but then placed her hand on Grace’s. “You’re a very good mother to both of them. You’ll be a good one to that one too.” she pointed her free hand at Grace’s belly.

“Did you just…?”

“Come on, you’ve been raising yourself a man since you met him and I’ll stand by that forever. Might get it engraved on my headstone.”

Grace cackled, “I absolutely AM NOT raising him!”

“He is literally a life sized puppy that went through a rebellious phase where he kept biting you!”

“Well, I finally realized that I have the power to curve that behavior… and trust me, Mom… It’s not something you’d do with somebody you’re raising.” Grace stuck her tongue out.

“Get off of me you scoundrel!” Her mother joked. Grace just laughed and held on tighter. The woman put her arm around her. “Are _you_ okay, Darling?”

“Whenever I was hurt or scared as a little girl, I was more afraid of admitting it to you and Daddy. I would be more hurt by the thoughts of how little you would think of me if I openly showed imperfection. Not feeling that way took a long time and a lot of work. So, now, if I have a hard day, I’m not too proud to lay on my mommy and say so.” She looked to gauge her mother’s reaction. She was always speechless whenever Grace got emotional. 

She’d never learn past those suppressing ways and it amazed Grace that her mother didn’t realize how much her and Simon were alike in that way. Simon had to work really hard at it and her mother was too proud and pampered to put in such effort. But, whenever Grace booped her nose, the woman’s eyes flickered amusement, ever so slightly. Now, she pushed Grace off of herself and opened her arms to receive Montanus. “Take a photograph of me with my children,” She told the nanny. “One with the two human ones, then we’ll add the new fur baby…”

.

She still hadn’t made any announcements about her status with Simon, nor had she spoken about her pregnancy outside of the maternity blog by the time Valentines’ Day rolled around. But, one thing that she did was allow for Simon to share maternity photos. That was her “gift” to him. 

There. Were. Tons. 

Simon took photos of everything. He had a copy of every ultrasound. He had an electronic journal of every detail that came up. So, whenever he posted the album “Countdown to Ivory’s Arrival,” he had more photos than most of the fans were probably going to look through. Therefore, he left many of them private, with only close friends able to view, and the ones that were public were his favorites of the candids of Grace being pregnant and gorgeous, some of the ones from photoshoots that she would post, and the professional maternity photos that they had taken so far. They took some each trimester, as a family. 

The ones at her three month mark were taken in New York, early November (around their anniversary, whenever he was in town. They had fall colors and all three of them were absolutely stunning. Hazel was impressed with how well that Simon cleaned up, so much that whenever he showed her older photos of himself, she thought he was a different person. She had no idea how right about that she was. Simon being both subservient and also a mega diva himself was absolutely salivating every time Grace did something, but also, it was him who insisted, "We have to have a photoshoot each trimester, each with a different theme.” She agreed on the trimesters, but wasn’t feeling the theme part so much. She told him that they could simply have the season be the theme.

They had three changes of outfits for each set. Grace had a gown made much like the one that she had worn to the fall festival in 9th grade (the one that the Idol Princess’ gown was very heavily based on, the one that Simon had taken photos of her in, getting her first beauty deal underway), one that Simon saw her in and immediately began crying. “You’re… gonna ruin the photos,” Hazel told him. 

There were candid ones of him crying. Her favorite was one where he was crying, Grace was trying to comfort him and Hazel dropped in front of them, bombing it with a prison pose and her tongue out. She had on a yellow pantsuit with fall leaves in her hair, her signature look being wearing leaves in her hair. Simon’s yellow suit was similar to hers, but way more expensive and the red accents, instead of the orange ones that Hazel elected. 

The orange outfits were Hazel in orange overalls, Grace in a romper and Simon in a jumpsuit that Hazel insisted was “the most expensive prison wear in the world.” The red ones were regal matching dress attire, Grace in a two piece dress to show off her belly, Hazel in the same floor length evening gown, but one piece, and Simon in a red suit, made of the same material. Hazel’s hair was down and flowing. Grace’s was gathered up, with most of her afro pulled forward, cascading out of the jeweled red head dress she wore, and Simon’s usually (these days) flowing hair was pulled into a ponytail, with the undercut showing. He was generally self conscious about it, but Hazel put little red jewels over his scar, so even though he was still anxious about his hair, he was proud of her accessorizing enough that he wanted to confidently show it off.

The six month ones were taken in January, and done in all white, which Hazel said, “Looks fabulous on mom and me, but you look like the abominable snowman,” to Simon, on the day of. They were in California by that time, but took a little trip to the mountains because the Monroes had property there that Simon remembered had beautiful scenery that he wanted to have family photos at. 

They did all white shots and winter blues. 

Whenever Simon posted them on Valentines’ Day, Hazel joked in the comments, “I still say that we need to crop your face out.” 

People loved the maternity photos, noticed that Grace did NOT have any on her page and she didn’t comment or react to any on Simon’s page. (Yes, these people pay entirely too much attention to the lives of celebrities that they didn’t even KNOW), but someone did some investigating and found Grace’s pregnancy blog. So… even though that was mostly a completely different following, others stormed into the space, thinking that FINALLY, some place where Grace has actually been interacting and will interact with us. She literally ignored anybody that wasn’t asking about helpful tips for their own pregnancy or giving her helpful tips and the title changed from, “Grace in Maternity” to “Y’all Can See This is a Mommy Blog, Right?”

A few people were seething, but funny enough, Grace’s faithful mommy following were more along the lines of, “Wait… You’re FAMOUS, Monroe Mommy???” After that, she had a hoard of moms check out her other life. She enjoyed having more of them in her fan base, though she also had a lot of ones who had always known being like, “Y’all seriously didn’t know Grace Monroe?” and her favorite quote ever on that blog, “Hell, her album is the reason I AM pregnant!!!”

Meanwhile, Simon had been less likely to play around with any of the fans ever since the video thing. He’d made that very clear, and then sort of stopped interacting with them. He didn’t even go through to like people’s comments anymore. Some of them would say things like, “Whoever resurfaced that video, if we find you, it's on sight for making Simon hate speaking with us!”

Sometimes a person would “Lol” and contend, “He’s too busy working on the Esmoroth movie. He’s not here because of the movie not some fuzzy sex tape from years ago.” 

Those were the only ones that he’d respond to just to say, “No, they’re right,” and nothing else. 

He wasn’t as busy on the Esmoroth movie as he intended to be. He was working on more tech and models for the movie than any other movie things. For one thing, the script was being adapted, and casting was hard. The casting director wanted to get a different type for the Idol Princess, but Simon was extremely firm and clear that the Idol Princess HAD to look exactly as described in the book. “There are parts of the story that are directly related to her looking the way that she does.”

“We can adjust those parts,” the director had said, hoping to appease him. 

“The Idol Princess looks like my childhood best friend. Her look is non negotiable,” he had told them. They didn’t believe in non negotiable, apparently, because the girls that were being considered were all much too light. Whenever Simon had rejected them all, they informed him of those girls’ filmographies and their agents and other people said agents represented.. “Maybe they have that type of record because people are hiring them for roles that were meant to be for someone else. Just… give me all of the call sheets for girl characters who auditioned.” 

He went through and disqualified half on looks alone (not to say that they weren’t pretty children or whatever, but they didn’t look like the Idol Princess). Whenever he had the stack of dark skin girls, he went through, checking their filmographies and auditions.

He asked Hazel for her opinion and she suggested a name that he recognized from his rejected stack. He pulled it back up and looked at the light skinned girl in the photo, "Do you mean this girl, Hazel?" He wondered.

"Yes! She's a really good actress!"

He furrowed his eyebrows and pointed out, "But she doesn't look like the Idol Princess. The Idol Princess has dark brown skin, tightly coiled hair, full nose and lips, and dark brown eyes. This girl has none of those things."

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, "She's really good though."

"Well… maybe some of these other girls are really good and people just don't want to see them in stuff like this." 

Hazel frowned and she asked, "Are you accusing me of favoring her because she's got features like mine?"

"No. I'm just saying that she doesn't look the part. You're usually really good about that kind of thing, Haze."

"Well… I don't know anybody in the age range that looks like the description of the Idol Princess." She folded her arms, "But like you said, maybe that's because people take the easy way out and just get the pretty Black girl that they know of to play a part instead of being true to characters. I've definitely read more books with dark skinned girls than I've seen in movies…"

"Here are some of my choices," he said and spread the sheets out before her. "I think this one has the look, but I think this one had a better audition. BUT, she was auditioning for a background character and this one was auditioning for the Wicked Heiress. Maybe she just didn't have that role in her and should audition for the Idol Princess, so we can know for sure.."

"I think that maybe they should all audition for the Idol Princess again. What if they just didn't believe it would be realistic that they'd get offered a job like this, especially if bigger stars are being considered? Sometimes, I have to talk kids into auditioning for our productions because they're worried that the same actors will win out anyway."

He gave her a side smile, "I think you're onto something, Haze."

.

Hazel sent out the invites for Grace’s baby shower. Unfortunately, all of Grace’s friends lived elsewhere, so it would be an expensive trip. Fortunately, they had money, so the Monroes could foot the bill for everyone who didn’t just have the means to travel across country for an event. 

Meta flew in with Damita from New York the previous week, but he made some business plans to collab with a Cali artist that week, so he was working, as well. Meanwhile, Damita and Grace were spending the week reconnecting and chilling. Shana and Iza came in from Atlanta the night before. Gharrisahn was already in LA for work, so she would swing by the day of. Grace’s parents arranged for Mikayla and Tulip to come down. They were in coach on the same flight that Lucy’s and Lindsay’s moms and they were in first class, so they’d all meet the driver upon landing.

Hazel had on a headset, along with Simon’s assistant and Grace’s assistant, because Hazel had arranged the shower and she wanted to make sure that things went how she meant for them to. 

Grace was in a custom made gown that was inspired by Book 3 of Esmoroth and Simon had been at her side simply staring at her for the entire time she had it on. It had been a surprise. A very nice one that he apparently loved. She hired the costume designer for the movie to make her several pieces, but this one was like the one that the Idol Princess resurrects in. Grace was now hip to the lore enough, mainly from paying attention to Hazel’s ravings, and her and Simon’s movie chat. 

For the most part, Grace didn’t want to have a shower. All of her friends lived elsewhere, the baby was due sort of close to Hazel’s birthday and she still wanted Hazel to be able to have a party - which she doubted would be able to happen if she waited until after they were born, so she wanted to have Hazel’s birthday party, INSTEAD of a shower and Hazel said, “How about you just worry about slaying everybody in your peak perfection pregnancy, and I’ll take care of the shower?” 

With the financial backing of GlamMother, her dad’s big brain, and her own penchant for moments and aesthetics, Hazel tended to be very good at making things come together. She even produced some choreography (Doereography, as she called her pieces), for her and her mother to perform, because, yes, Grace was good and swollen by May, but she also could still do mostly everything that she was doing before with that additional bundle. It did throw her balance off a little and she couldn’t lift Hazel at the moment, but she kept up with every step of the Irish step dancing that Hazel put into the choreo, and she absolutely could still nail every Haitian movement. Hazel wanted to make a birthday choreo with ties to her heritage, and Grace was always very supportive of her doing anything that made her feel connected to her identity. 

For good measure, Hazel looked up cultures from Grace and Simon’s heritages too. She was most accustomed to American jazz/hip hop and ballet. She started at 6, with Grace and when they were apart, Grace used to make instructional videos and post them just for Hazel. Whenever she was 10, she started to tap, and all of the other things in between, she and Grace perfected, and whenever she really wanted to nail something, they’d call in a world class trainer. 

Hazel felt that a world class trainer was needed for the baby shower. Grace very much so disagreed. So, Hazel got her grandmother to get them. “Next time, simply come to me first,” the woman had said. 

Hazel opened up with one of her raps. Her mom’s friends (as always) got their entire lives whenever she would flow - which was possibly the reason that she honed her talent, if she thought about it - and even Simon would be into the groove with things. He didn’t have the best rhythm, but he certainly always looked way taken up with her talent. Grace bouncing around with a round belly was everything in the world to Hazel, and when she was done, she waddled over to hug her. 

They played games, did some traditional shower things and some new things too, that Hazel consulted with celebrity event planners for. When it was time for gifts, Grace froze, looking at the way that everything flowed. It was like her 16th birthday again and she felt like she might have a panic attack. “Grace… It’s okay,” Simon said. She looked at him on the other side of the tete a tete and he smiled, “I learned my lesson. This is straight up simply tribute.” He kissed her on the forehead and she calmed down to receive gifts and cry about everything, but manage to not look ugly doing so, because no matter how comfortable she had gotten over the years, that was still engrained in her as a huge no-no.

Winding down from the party, she found Hazel and her friends at the photo booth, having switched out their baby shower outfits for their birthday party outfits. “Where’s Simon?”

“Bullying people about their gifts,” Hazel said nonchalantly. 

“Oh God…” Grace raced over and smiled, “Hey… what’s uh… what’s going on?”

Mrs. Monroe stood behind Simon with her arms folded and Mr. Laurent was in front of them. Simon answered, “Well, I’m giving people things back that went against the specifications for the list.”

“I don’t remember making specifications for the list.”

“You wouldn’t, because you didn’t, I did. You aren’t particularly great at meticulous things and you don’t pay attention whenever I’m telling you plans like these,” Simon said.

“We’re not gonna send a gift back with the person who gave it to us.”

“What are we gonna do, donate it to charity? Because I am not putting this together for our baby. This company uses…”

“Thank you, Mr. Laurent. Thank you for coming and thank you for this gift.” She gave the man a pat on the hand and smiled at Simon. He was still frowning, along with her mother. “You’re backing him up, now?” She got flashbacks of whenever they used to gang up on her and she was very salty that she had to defend MR. LAURENT of all people against the devastating team and Simon and her mother could be.

“He specifically said nothing from that company ON THE LIST,” her mom said, beginning a tirade against this man, with her and Simon taking turns on letting him know exactly how he’d fucked up.

“Their product is cheap and substandard.”

“They’ve decimated the supply of the people in the area they harness things from TO make cheap product.”

“And they use slave labor!”

“Child slaves.”

“OKAY! Okay… That’s a good company to boycott. But hear me out… Mr. Laurent is a simple man who shops at like three places and definitely doesn’t look up things like that,” Grace said.

To which Simon and Mrs. Monroe both reminded her, (loudly) “It was on the list!”

“I made it clear which companies we weren’t accepting gifts from!”

“It’s already bought.” Simon was going to continue complaining, but Grace took his hands and placed them on her belly and he immediately softened up and stared at it. “This is the most important thing, right?”

He looked up at her and cupped her face, shifting himself to touch foreheads with her. Hazel appeared out of nowhere to bomb the photo that they weren’t even expecting Lucy to take. 

.

“Wait, that was it?” Grace wondered. Let’s be clear… she did go through a lot of pain and it was a tough time in the birthing house, even with Simon right beside her and Hazel, her mother and her best friend nearby. But… it felt like there should be something else happening or that something was missing, that she had neglected something, or like something didn’t happen that was supposed to. 

She supposed that she had simply set her expectations so deeply into the thought of pain, struggle, blood, sweat and tears, that when it came… her imagination had actually run wild. Simon had kept telling her she was doing well and how he was proud of her and other affirmations. He was holding the baby now while she was being cleaned up. 

“Did everything happen?” Grace asked. 

Hazel went over the checklist with her. _Yes. Everything happened._ “Did I pass out?” _No. She was awake. She was there for every grueling minute. It just was a different experience for her than what her mother described, than what she read and interpreted._

The professionals explained to her how her birthing went relatively well, what to do next, etc. Charlotte, from the center, even talked to her about how it’s not only different for everyone, but how all four of her own pregnancies and births were different from the last. Grace was expecting something terrible to happen within the first few days, just because it didn’t seem like everything had happened! The paranoia died down on day 3 and she simply was back to cuddling with her new baby.

They looked like her, so far. Hazel made them a stuffie of a potato in a diaper… the baby just looked like a potato. She didn’t know how else to express that. Simon worshipped them. He was constantly holding them whenever Grace wasn’t. He was close by whenever she fed them. He took so many photos on his phone that within days, he surpassed all of the ones he had of Monty from the past several months.

NONE of those were going online any time soon. Grace had only posted a few days after giving birth her experience with having done so. She bounced back so quickly and looked so effortlessly beautiful that some people were claiming that she had been trolling and was never actually pregnant. She found that funny, but it also was her cue to duck away from the Internet for a while again. 

The first month of Ivory’s life, they were for the most part a quiet baby. Simon frequently worried that something was wrong, checking, rechecking, then coming back and checking again that they were breathing, awake, happy, etc. Grace was more like, “You’re so gross. Look at you! Drooling all over everything. Little slobbery monster!” She spoke in a high pitched voice that made Ivory smile and kick their little legs around.

“GRACE! Don’t say that!” Simon insisted. “You’re gonna make them feel bad.”

“No way! Ivory’s a tough little cookie, like their Mama. I gonna bite you, Cookie! Mama gonna bite you!” Then she playfully nibbled at their feet and hands. 

Simon studied the baby for a while and determined, “They seem to be enjoying it.” He would then relax a little. 

Hazel was the only person allowed to post photos of Ivory, and comments were always closed. The first one was on Hazel’s birthday. She was in a sundress, tanned a little more than usual and Ivory and she had on matching rompers and sunhats. “Ivory came 13 days before my 13th year. They really said, “I’ma be 13 too, Sis.” Look at them. Tiny. Tiny Potato. Sis has your back for life. #taurustribe #jk #idcboutthat #MonroeSibs #Doetography #HouseLaurent 

And there it was. All that anyone needed to see. You honestly couldn’t tell what the baby looked like, but how could anybody doubt Hazel’s hashtag “House Laurent?”

Simon sort of liked having a private family. He wasn’t sure why he had been so eager to have people acknowledge things before. Even one year ago, he needed for somebody, anybody to know that he slept in the same bed with Grace Monroe. He needed for her to say “I love you.” He needed to hear Hazel call him “dad.” He still loved those things, but he had everything he could have ever wanted… it just looked different than he thought it would. 

Why did he want to “take care of” Grace for so long? She was caoable of taking care of herself, probably better than he was of himself. She had talents (was ALREADY back to working on new dances with Hazel and new music), qualities… God… that smile made him weak… She had several other things too, but if he sat there making a list, he’d be there for a while, and he COULDN’T be there for a while, because Ivory was six weeks old and Grace told him that he could take them with him to work. 

He began strapping the baby into the stroller… “Are you… where are you trying to take my baby?” Grace asked.

“My calendar says that they’re six weeks old. I can take them to work with me.”

Grace put her hands on her hips and Simon frowned. “You said it. I have a recording of you saying it.”

“Well, I said that we shouldn’t take them anywhere before six weeks…”

“And I set my calendar,” Simon completed the thought and pulled the diaper bag onto his shoulder. “Abigail is bringing Monty, so they’ll have a play date.”

“Oh, she is?” Grace asked, toweling herself down. “Hold on. I’m coming.”

“Grace, I’m gonna be late!”

“I’m not letting you go be a Daddy sized snack with TWO cute babies on you with a cute, perfect bodied nanny with no friends!”

“I don’t think she’s all that cute and I have no idea what her body looks like!”

“It doesn’t look like she pushed a baby out of it six weeks ago!”

“NEITHER DOES YOURS!” 

She came into the room, changed up and smiling, “Awww. That’s so sweet.”

“How did you?” She looked perfect. She looked perfect and she couldn’t have taken any longer than five minutes. And she thought she had anything to worry about? But, he wasn’t complaining. If he had Grace and the baby around, that was just better, all around. 

“I’m staying here,” Hazel told them and continued dancing in the mirror.

Grace was standing on the scooter, with Simon behind her, sporadically kissing her on the neck every now and then, making her smile and gush. Whenever they pulled into the studio Simon took the baby out, which Grace noticed was wearing an oversized heather gray, “Proof he got lucky with Grace Monroe” onesie. “Simon! What did you…?” She gasped and saw that he had a shirt, the same color that read, “I got lucky with Grace Monroe.”

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to be here today!” Simon told her. 

“How many shirts and onesie sets did you buy?”

“Not a lot. I bought WAY MORE t-shirts than I did onesies.” She fell behind a little and the back of that man’s shirt said “Grace’s Babydaddy.”

“Simon…”

“In my defense… You were right there whenever I walked out of the house wearing it.” She laughed. “It’s just in the studio. I’m working on some mechanics. There’s not gonna be cameras on me or anything.” She was still pouting. “I know that you’re super secretive, but I’m sure that most of the people who give a damn about what we do already know that this is indeed my baby…”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Ugh. I wanted to do this whole reveal thing for you on Sunday! I was gonna make this long, sweet post and open my comments and EVERYTHING. Now, I feel like it won’t have the same effect…” His eyes were already all watery, just from her THINKING about doing so.

“Sunday is Father’s Day…”

“Yeah. I can keep my own secrets. Not tell people about my pregnancy or who I bone or how I share time with my daughter or whatever, but I didn’t plan on making you stay in the shadows of my spotlight for the rest of our lives, especially when it comes to this. You’ve been an immense pain in the ass, but you’re a wonderful father and I figured it’d be a good… coming out of sorts for me to acknowledge that on that day.”

He cradled Ivory closely, “You can still do that.”

“Well, you’ve announced it all over your clothes and also… I just told you the entire plan!”

“I love knowing plans!” Simon said. “Here.” He took off the shirt and threw on his hoodie, which it was too hot for and then they changed the baby’s onesie too. “I sort of want to eat it up whenever people actually find out from you that I am indeed, who you bone.” She laughed. “This is the best spoiled surprise that I’ve ever had!”

“Well… I didn’t tell you ALL my plans, so there’s still stuff to look forward to.”

“Yeah?” He asked, casually as they walked inside.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“Something that starts with the letter P.” Simon turned red and she smiled brightly.

“Uh. Didn’t put THAT on your calendar, did you?” 

His lip dropped, “I DIDN'T!” He frowned, “In my defense… we don’t really do that enough for it to have been something I was counting down to.” He smirked, “But every time we do…” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her. She bit her lip and shook her head, “Nope. Sunday. You aren’t gonna beard break me, Mr. Laurent.”


	35. This Train Don't Stop There Anymore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't want this story to come off as a "No matter what you do to hurt each other, forgive and forget and fall in love." Because it's FAR from that and their relationship is still a little bit dysfunctional in the end, but they're working through it and making it work. I want the moral to be, "If you want to try to work on things, it can happen, but nothing is perfect." Hopefully, that is the journey that you've taken on this wild ride with these two. Thank you for reading, and hopefully, I'll hear from some of you.

Hazel was extremely excited and almost frantic in her movements as she tried to get ready for her party. Whenever she first came to live with Grace and she would see those rich girls at school with their name brands and such, she really didn’t think much of them. It actually bothered her a little bit to know that the woman that she would be calling mother was like that at some point. 

But, these years later, Hazel understood that they didn’t make themselves rich kids and judging them for it was fun when she wasn’t one of them, but as long as she kept her smarts and her morals, she could be a better rich kid. While she wasn’t “self-made,” per se, she did believe that her talents and personality were what kept her afloat, after having been given a platform by becoming Grace Monroe’s daughter.

Furthermore, she had several ideas for brand building, for Grace, for Simon, and for herself, and one conclusion, that she came to, happened on Father’s Day…

Hazel posted one of her original poems onto her page at the very stroke of Midnight. She told Grace that since Simon is her father and not “father of my child,” then SHE should be able to post her Father’s Day sentiment first. That was certainly agreeable, and they made a deal that Hazel could post at Midnight and Grace would post at noon.

_ Hazel: (Father's Day Poem) _

_ Guest: Is this confirmation that Grace and Simon are a couple??? _

_ Hazel: This is a Father's Day Poem. _ 🙂

_ Guest: If Grace is your mom and Simon's your dad, ARE THEY TOGETHER? _

_ Hazel: I posted for my mom on Mother's Day. Today is Father's Day. This post is only about my dad. _

_ Guest: We all knew it! We've won, y'all!  _

_ Hazel: Were you all trying to win a Father's Day poem? Because that's what's posted here. _

_ Guest: Thank you for finally breaking the news officially! _

_ Hazel: Breaking the news that Simon is the closest I've come to a father? That’s not really news, but this is really a celebration day for it. Y'all are weird. _

_ Guest: You're being pretty rude to excited fans who are just trying to celebrate. _

_ Hazel: This is a Father's Day poem and "fans" keep trying to drag my mother into it. If you want to celebrate something, might I suggest... Father's Day? Scroll up. There's a poem. _

_ Guest: You take away from the poem by being a very rude person. _

_ Hazel: I don’t care if you like the poem. It was free to you when I absolutely could charge for anything that I ever offer freely on this page. But more importantly, it was actually written for my dad and I know he loves it, so no, I haven’t taken anything away from his poem by not entertaining your entitlement. Au revoir tho. _

Her takeaway was, “We really ought to charge people for insight into our lives.” Simon was in another room, handling the invasive trolls on Hazel’s account, instead of just soaking up the joy of having his first official Father’s Day. Grace nodded her head, selecting the perfect photos for her own Father’s Day post.

Hazel watched her select ones from the exclusive and private “Babymoon” that Simon took her on, meanwhile, Hazel was having a retreat with GlamMother at the time, as “We’ll need to be refreshed and ready for that baby coming as well.” Hazel felt that. She also felt left out. She understood that they just wanted some “alone time” before Ivory arrived, but on a deeper level, she took that to mean that they didn’t want her around. She broke into her own thoughts, “Like… Instead of ever having ANYTHING on our pages about our life together, we should have all the photos, comments and stuff elsewhere… like… on a Patreon account or something.”

Grace hummed and offered, “That’s for people trying to get off the ground, but I could definitely speak to your team if you want to try to monetize more of your content.”

“I think we should ALL monetize our content! As a family.”

“That sounds scarily like Shana’s suggestion that we do a reality TV show,” Grace said. Hazel made a face and Grace nodded, “Yeah. Something along the lines of our road to recovery. Showing how we managed to make it from where we were at the time of her interview to where we are now. Of course, I declined vehemently, but Si was willing to potentially do a documentary, which I could handle; but only if it's one of us holding the cameras and ALWAYS recorded with consent.” Grace was very invested in the whole consent thing and Hazel understood to a certain degree. 

There were times whenever they were out and about and Simon would have a little, hmmm, should she word it “disagreement” with someone where he would actually take a pause to look towards Grace. 

_ At least _ twice, Hazel witnessed her say “I consent,” very faintly, right before Simon snapped to action. Hazel wasn’t that young anymore and she had always been both clever and wise, in her opinion, and sometimes in others.’ She knew what siccing looked like, and in her family, it looked like her dad furiously looking at her mom for approval to go off, and her mom saying, “I consent” to prompt him into attack mode. Or perhaps “permit” was more accurate. Grace would then gently remove Hazel from nearby, in case it happened to get physical. She would collect her and shield her, but watch in satisfaction as Simon defended either her or the family.

After a few lawsuits and some potential charges, Simon got a little bit better about leading with his fists. That’s not to say that they didn’t get thrown anymore… but he at least tried to talk to people first… usually like they were a fucking idiot, but that was a step up from that guy who’s face Hazel saw him bust open the day she first called herself his daughter.

Since then, she had helped him create dozens of “Simpsona” tees, and he mostly wore them around the house or the camper, but after today, she could only imagine how he was going to be wearing one every single day of his life to announce, even when he’s silent how much of a simp he was for Grace.

Whenever Grace posted her Father’s Day post, Hazel wasn’t  _ jealous  _ that more people loved it and validated it and were super excited about it… but she didn’t feel it was  _ fair _ that the tribute from the person who Simon  _ wasn’t _ father to, got  _ more _ attention than his daughter’s did. 

Rationally, she knew that Grace had been in the public eye for almost as long as she had even been alive, and she knew that Grace had so many avenues of business and fame - professional dancer, the natural beauty industry, internet personality, musician, singer, song writer, and famous former supermodel turned socialite’s daughter, whatever it was that Grandest did to make him more money and more important than GlamMa (hence why Grace would have a massive mountain of fans and stans that cared)… So, Hazel GOT it, but boy did it get to her, on that day of all days. 

This was her FIRST Father’s Day, with the first person she ever had the time, heart, and permission to read as her father. There was a Haitain man out there somewhere, who may or may not have known she even existed, and Irish girl that left her under a bush - possibly while too high to think about the consequences, (and countless faces in different houses that never bothered to give her the chance she deserved), but for the years that she ached for them, she finally was in a place where they had been replaced fully. So, she really wanted to be “selfish” and bask in that as the center of attention. 

EVEN THOUGH Simon definitely loved her poem and said that he was going to get the handwritten version duplicated and framed so that he could have one in all of his workspaces and stuff, He was wearing his “Grace Monroe’s Babydaddy” shirt and had been beside Grace ever since she hit “post.” She knew that he was much more happy about the fact that after almost 3 years, Grace was finally actually claiming him officially. 

He had spent that entire time hoping and wishing and praying and dreaming… or whatever he did for things… working? Whatever. He’d spent the time dedicated to the accomplishment that one day Grace Monroe would call him hers and stop making people wonder. Hazel had always been very open that she knew Simon, cared about him, appreciated his work, wanted to see him do well… and it wasn’t like Grace HADN’T… But, she was always really hushed about what he meant to her when Hazel hadn’t been!! This was their first Father’s Day since Hazel acknowledged him as such and she couldn’t help but to feel overshadowed… Hazel had been his “pupil” before ever becoming his daughter and everyone who followed her knew that Simon mattered and they were close. For the moment, she didn’t even seem to register in his world.

She was staring at Simon, smiling at Grace, a baby on his shoulder (who looked so much like Grace they could be mistaken for each other on side by side baby pics) and his hand playing in Grace’s hair… For a few moments, Hazel felt outside of this family again. Simon and Grace were family long before she came around. She might have slid into the fold whenever they were distant, but now, they were back and they had this perfect baby.  _ Their  _ baby. And she was… “this girl who came to live with them,” for a few moments.

Grace noticed her pondering and smiled, “Haze… you wanna come see some of the stuff people are saying about your dad?”

“No thank you,” Hazel said and forced a smile. She noted the look that Grace and Simon gave each other - the worry - and she laughed, “It’s just that we’ve heard it all before, right? It’s just always been premature, and now… it’s the perfect time. They’ve got everything that  _ they _ wanted… for free.”

“You are really on this charging the public thing, huh?” Grace asked. Hazel rolled her eyes. Of course,  _ Grace _ would miss the true point of the statement.

Simon added, “She has a point. We’ve got TWO trust funds to work on now..” _ You too, Simon? Both of you are so thick!  _ And they merely continued!!!

“We’ve got way more investments into them than trust funds…” Grace corrected him.

“That sides with my notion of ‘she has a point,’ so…?” Grace rolled her eyes and playfully plucked him. He caught her hand and kissed her fingers. Hazel rolled her eyes too now, but mostly because those two were just gross! She longed for the days where they tried to be affectionate behind her back. What a FOOL she felt like for ever pressuring them to do it in plain sight! “I think she should start a magazine,” Simon said, breaking into the fog of frustration brewing in her mind. 

Grace gasped and said, “YES! That would be so perfect for her!”

“If she’s interested...” 

Neither of them were going to note that Hazel was feeling like an outsider, and maybe it was best that they didn’t. Hazel knew that sometimes, she was simply insecure and it was all her imagination. They loved her just as much as they did Ivory. They loved her like she was their own. They never did anything to make her feel like she wasn’t. She just had to wonder, did they ever _ feel _ like it? Did they have days where they looked at her and thought,  _ even for a moment _ \- “this is not my daughter?”

Now, they were both looking at her and she came over to sit, thinking about this magazine idea to help push her insecurities away. If they DID ever think that, what was important was that they ignored it and just continued to love her. What was important was that such thoughts didn’t disrupt their family. That right there was enough proof to her that no matter what, she was theirs and they had her best interests in mind.

“What would I have to do in order to start a magazine?” They made way for her to sit between them and Simon began looking up information on the computer, while Grace searched the contacts in her phone as she breastfed, to figure out who she had connections to that might be able to help with the idea.

.

Which brings us back to Hazel frantically getting ready… for the release party of her new magazine! She was going to be rolling out a printed version, although there would definitely be more content online. This was why she couldn’t even knock the rich kids anymore… Her mom bought her very own magazine company for her for a fake holiday, mind you. All of the employees and the supplies and information and everything that went into creating a magazine were all under Grace’s umbrella of, “For your No Shell Needed Celebration!”

_ Hazel hadn’t dissociated via turning into a turtle in almost as long as Grace and Simon had been officially out to her. Grace tossed out the idea of having a celebration for each month that Hazel went without turning into a turtle, but Hazel declined, insisting that she couldn’t control it and it felt like a lot of pressure to know that if it didn’t happen to her, she might get a reward. But, since she once again, was not as simple as some others, she did note that Grace usually got her sweet little “just because” gifts each month (typically around the 7th) - mind you… Hazel’s last turtle episode wasn’t on the 7th. It was on the 4th.  _

_ Hazel remembered because it was the day before Grace and Simon sat her down and told her that they were going to actually try to make a romance work between them (The day before what they observe as their anniversary). She remembered, because she had been so conflicted, in having wanted to know details about them, but not really wanting to know this detail, not at that time, at least. But, she had given Grace enough grief the day before, so she said that she was happy about it and then sulked in silence for three days, until Grace brought up the turtle thing and tried to start a celebration, etc.  _

_ Hazel figured that whenever she said no, Grace probably put a monthly note in her calendar to do secret celebration things for her anyways. She was feeling like she had put Hazel through a lot that week and Grace always overcompensated upsetting her loved ones with whatever it was she had to offer.  _

_ The next November 7th, lo and behold, Grace thought, “Would you like to change out some of the turtle stuff in your room, or do you want to hold on to that?” Hazel still liked turtles and commented that she would like MORE turtles, as a matter of fact, trying to call Grace’s bluff and get her to admit that she was trying to celebrate her not turning into a turtle for a full year… but, the way that Grace’s heart was set up, it was Hazel’s day and if what she wanted was more turtle stuff, that’s what she was getting. Hazel got so much turtle stuff that her friends wondered if she was going through something. _

_ The next year, Hazel informed her, “I know what you’ve been doing, Mom. You celebrate every month that I haven’t had a turtle episode with little gifts rewarding me for being normal, then you want to do something big when I get to another year.” _

_ Grace blushed and brushed Hazel’s hair away from her shoulders, “It’s not about you being normal. I love my little girl and I loved my little turtle. Hazel, you went through a lot and you found a way to cope with things, a way that wasn’t necessarily dangerous or bad, but unique. Celebrating the fact that you don’t do it anymore isn’t so much of me being cheerful that you’re “being normal,” but me being grateful that you don’t feel like you have things that are so hard for you to cope with, with me. I figured… it makes me happy to know that she doesn’t have to be a turtle, so I’m gonna do something nice and make her happy today, too. I always felt like you went inside of yourself, created that shell because it was the only place that you could feel at home.” She squeezed her tightly, kissed her hair and grunted, “I love you sooooo much. I’m so lucky you found your home with me.” _

_ Hazel started crying. Grace was really good at making her cry. But, she was also really good at giving her comforting hugs and cheer up gifts. So, immediately after that, she restocked her entire WorkBox 3.0 and they set up a sundae bar in the kitchen.  _

_ Simon… didn’t interfere. He felt like a lot of the things that Grace did was very overboard/unnecessary, but he also remembered being a teenager and wanting SO MANY things, but not being able to have them and Grace simply asking her parents for stuff and giving it to him. Her parents rarely batted an eye and she didn’t mind asking them for material things, even knowing that she wasn’t going to use them. It was never on the level of the things that she gave Hazel, but Hazel was her daughter, not her friend from school, and it was her money to do whatever she wanted to do with it. Grace’s love language was definitely in gifts.  _

_ He supposed that he was instrumental in that. He had given her gifts when they were young and gotten others to do so as well, and being her first and only friend and love… she might have incorporated that practice into how she perceived love. Maybe that was why no matter how mean her parents were, she loved them so much she couldn’t stand to disappoint them. They were constantly giving her stuff. Then again… everybody gave her stuff… well… he didn’t know for sure, but he wanted to take some credit for how she modeled her love life. _

_ Plus, Hazel was a good kid. She deserved anything that her heart desired and if Grace could and would give it to her, he was in full support of that… even when it seemed stressfully irresponsible in his brain. _

This year, at least she was giving Hazel a gift that could potentially give back. Because Hazel would have, if nothing else, the first looks at things inside the Monroe/Laurent household, their business, their promos and such… and she would likely be able to get some fresh scoops from their friends and business associates, too. 

For instance, Shana conducted an interview with Simon in which they speak about their past - her old feud with the Apex in school, the assault outside of the prom, the interview with Grace (how he felt about it and their alliance), her attacking him in the elevator, whether or not the Wicked Heiress in Esmoroth was meant to be her (she definitely was), and where they would be going from here, since she was still friends with Grace and he didn’t appear to be going anywhere any time soon… That interview would be  _ exclusively _ found in MonDoe Magazine, or with the premium subscription to the website. 

Tulip was hired to design the website and upkeep. Grace kept as much as possible within her ecosystem. Hazel’s friends were contributors, and she drew a logo that was a triangle with red lips in the center, which was placed as an overlay for her, Lucy and Lindsay holding hands in a triangle formation, then the lips would say in Hazel’s voice, “New Apex Publishing.” 

She and Simon played around a lot with different designs and names before she decided that she adored the thought of being the new mother of a new Apex (the old ones all sort of defected either to Grace’s brand or the Esmoroth fandom) and neither of them used Apex anymore (though they still saw it in hashtags and stuff). “I want to be as big as she is,” Hazel had said, a glimmer in her eyes. “Someday.”

“You’re great, Haze!” Simon offered.

“I know that. I don’t just want to be great. I want to be  _ Grace _ …” He seemed alarmed and she even shocked herself in saying it, and cleaned it up, “...like.” She fumed a little, “Please just admit that me at 13 and her at 13 are so very different and you probably wouldn’t have even been friends with me if you knew me in school!”

His eyes widened and he winced, trying to figure out a good way to answer that without telling her that she was absolutely right. “I wasn’t friends with anyone else at 13,” he said. “And yes… you and Grace are very different, but… I think you’ve definitely got an advantage on her. You have two involved parents. You have a genuinely supportive community. You had an early start online and already have a pretty massive following. Hers didn’t gain traction until high school. You have several of your own companies to inherit. You’ve… gotten your healing from the shit that is life much sooner... If you were to ask Grace, I’d bet that she wished she was more like you at your age, than to have been stuck with just me as backup, getting ready to rush head forward into high school and let public opinion mold her into something she didn’t even like being.” He took a deep breath and said, “Grace was the kind of person who people met and just wanted to be near and wanted to be like, and that pressure made her want to be everything that we wanted her to be. She only became the version of Grace-like that you know after a lot of hard times and hard work that neither of us would ever want for you. Besides, we love Hazel in this house. We stan.”

“God, you two are such A-holes!” Hazel said, wiping her tears. “Always making me feel super loved and therefore making me CRY.”

“We’re gonna keep super loving you. For the rest of our lives.” He grabbed her into a one armed hug and kissed her on the top of her head.

“The rest of your lives… do you two… like… talk about that?” He scoffed and shook his head. “Am I able to ask why?” Simon sighed and chewed on his lip, tilting his head to try to figure out if this was one of those things where it was his responsibility to explain or Grace’s right to. That was one of the harder parts of parenting with somebody that you’d hurt so badly. You had to consider things and approach them in ways that untarnished 

trust/relationships just didn’t.

“What do you know about the Sweet 16 Party?”

“Only that it was, and I quote “too much,” or maybe it was “a lot,” it’s been years since this subject came up and it’s usually shut down real quickly.”

Simon sat up and rubbed his hands together, preparing himself, “Okay. Well, my parents weren’t very festive after my sister died. They’d get me presents and a cake, sing happy birthday pretty miserably, and then just kinda go. So, around, well… I guess it happened for our 13th birthdays, Grace got her folks to sort of graft me into her birthday parties, since she had just as few friends, just as detached parents, and our birthdays are a month apart. It was really great. We loved being able to celebrate together, even though we usually had REAL celebrations on our actual birthdays that were just the two of us. But, Sweet 16 was different. It was different because by then I was obsessively in love with Grace and unhealthily close to her parents. I had convinced myself that we were supposed to be together, so I used everything to my advantage to try to coax her into being my girlfriend. Then, I got really upset with her when she tried to tell me that she didn’t know if she wanted to be, so… she just… let me have my way.”

“What happened?” Hazel’s eyes were wide and she looked both apprehensive, but intrigued. He knew he had made the right call. It was his responsibility to tell this story. Grace would have been hurting to have to admit to telling her the things that Simon had done to her back then, now that they were a family.

“I made a huge production, with a massive audience, put her in the center of the spotlight and asked her out in front of everybody whose opinions of her mattered, most of all, mine. I put her in that position and stood right in front of her, in front of everyone and made her feel obligated to give me an answer.” Hazel looked disgusted. “Yeah. And just like you realize that she would hate that, I knew it too. But, I knew that she couldn’t say no. I knew that my chances would be greater in that situation. Whenever I finally asked her to give me a chance again… It was very casual. We were on the phone and I playfully threw it out there. Of course, after she said yes, I sort of got carried away, but she reigns me in whenever I do that, now. She’s already forgiven me a lot of stuff, but there’s a lot of stuff that I can tell is never gonna leave her mind. I just feel like I don’t know if we’ll ever be in the position for me to be able to bring up something like… THAT. Asking her to marry me would probably just make her feel pressured.”

“You’ve been in the position to pop a baby in her, I think you could manage to pop the question,” Hazel said. 

He smiled, “Why, Hazel, while worded a bit crudely, am I to understand that I am getting your blessing right now?”

“Why, Dad, you had my blessing whenever I even let you in this place. What did you think I was doing? Helping my mother to select some boy toy? I absolutely would have gone with someone less scraggly and more muscular for that.”

“Hazel!”

“I’m just saying, if he’s just for play or for show, WHY would I choose you?”

“You do realize that instead of roasting me in this setting, all you’ve managed to do is heighten my dad's senses in the event a non scraggly buff dude is present, right?”

“Psssht. I don’t care about dudes. That part of hormones hasn’t hit me yet, I guess.”

“Thank God. May they never. May you be ace, like your mom.”

“Well, that’s short sighted. It didn’t stop her from making very questionable romantic choices - having sex, getting pregnant, getting an abortion…”

“Okay! Okay! Please, no more, thank you.” He thought for a while and then wondered, “Has she ever mentioned anything about it?” Hazel looked a bit horrified. “Not THAT. God. About… us… the future…”

“Umm… not specifically. I’ve gotten the idea that she doesn’t really zhush with marriage in general, maybe? But, she talks about you like you’ll always be here. ‘Whenever you graduate, me and Simon can do this thing.’ Or, ‘whenever you have a place of your own, please have mercy on us with babysitting fees, because Simon is so paranoid and would bring kids anywhere’… like… at least the near future, she sees you two together.”

“Whether or not it happens, I’m still always gonna be here for you, Hazel.”

“I know, Struggle Beard.”

“It’s a full healthy beard!” 

“For a bird.” He laughed and covered his beard up. “Or like… a little bug with a hat on.” He tried to glare at her, but her face was straighter than his can 

.

Grace noticed that Simon was acting bizarre… er, than usual. Sure, he was spending a lot more time at the studio, now that filming was underway, and he definitely still wanted to be sure that he was checking in with her, Hazel and Ivory. But, something was off about him. Father’s Day evening was very much a life altering experience for her, but she knew that her body was a *little* different than it had been prior to pregnancy and even though pregnancy made her very physical and they had been intimate the whole way through, especially the Babymoon, she didn’t know if it bothered him that she wasn’t *as* perfect as before. 

Monty’s first birthday, she began to notice his behavior. He was very much into celebrating Monty’s day, but he also talked to her mother in secret a lot and whenever her father came around, he got all cheery and fake. He was up to something, but when she asked, he changed the subject to how it was sad that Ivory couldn’t have any cake because they were too young, which got her on the subject of how Ivory was too young to even care and distracted her from her initial concerns.

She was a little more stressed out caring for an infant than she had been in the early months of mothering Hazel, but she definitely was not making Hazel help, so she sometimes had to do things on her own or insist that Simon figure out how to set the time aside. Sometimes… it almost felt like he was avoiding her, but that didn’t make much sense as whenever he did come around, he was all up under her and the baby and his hardest clingy. He was hiding something, and she didn’t know what, but he eventually told her that he had something that he wanted to tell her. 

She prepared herself for bad news, simply because even though Simon didn’t tend to give her  _ much _ bad news, he  _ only _ seemed pressed about bad news and he was definitely in a state of unrest. Ivory was about 3 months old and Grace set them on their play mat on the floor, so that whatever Simon was about to say wouldn’t affect them.

“There are things that you do that nobody else is capable of doing,” he said. She felt her heart accelerate.  _ Was that a declaration of appreciation, or the precursor to something messed up?  _ “And lately, with this movie happening, I’ve met so many more people and you’ve had your own stuff happening too, with the new mommy blog and stuff…” 

_ This sounds like he’s about to tell me that he’s met someone. I can handle that, can’t I? I can. I’ll have to. What am I gonna do? Kill him? I’m not a murderer… but none of those women on Snapped were murderers before their episode of Snapped, either.  _ “You’re a musical genius, even if the charts don’t necessarily recognize that yet. You play all these instruments and you make honestly great stuff…” 

_ What? Did I miss something? Did he tell me what woman is about to get him killed? It better not be Abigail. She’s a good nanny, but I’d feel obligated to get her fired if my man is trying to leave me for her. And if he thinks he’s taking my baby with him…  _ “So, if you have any time, and can manage it, I really need you to be in charge of the music department…”

She blinked away tears and asked, “What?”

“I know… it’s asking a lot, especially because I’m not sure that the studio would pay you what I believe that you’re worth, but…”

“You want me to work on the music for your movie?” She asked, tears streaming down now, relieved tears, scared tears… she actually scared herself a lot for a moment there.

“Umm… yes… you’re crying, so I don’t know if that’s because of this or something else?”

“I…” she laughed and wiped her eyes, “I thought you were about to break up with me.” 

“Why?”

“I don’t know! You were acting weird, Man!” She had her hand over her heart and he took it into his, kissed her fingers and shook his head.

“Yeah, but it was ‘I hate asking Grace for big favors’ weird. Break up with you? In what fucking world?”

“You’ve broken up with me before!” She said and flailed her arms.

He opened his mouth and shut it. “Oh my God, I honestly keep blocking that part out. Mentally, I feel like you broke up with me first, but I keep being reminded that we were actually still together when I did the… shit.” he tilted his head, “Technically, we never broke up.”

“Umm… if you didn’t consider that confession to me, followed by a punch in the mouth a break up, then I don’t want to hear another word about my little misunderstanding just now.” Simon flinched thinking about that and she flinched seeing him flinch. She didn’t mean to bring it up. Sure, he’d deserved it that day, but it was a pretty triggering day and combined with some of the things that she knew about how his mom was, she felt bad that she mentioned it. 

“But, sure, of course I’ll work on movie music! My first soundtrack? That’s great to me! In fact… you’ve… listened to Meta’s stuff, right? What would you think about me cutting a track with Meta for The Future King’s theme?” 

She was SUPER excited, already. “Like, can you imagine Meta rapping whenever whatever blond waif boy steps onto the scene and he’s like (imitates Meta’s deep, soft voice and NY accent, “All of my life, I believed that I was never going to be anything but a peasant; but I suddenly knew that wasn’t true, whenever I first looked at you...”

Simon’s eyes twinkled, “This is why I love you. Do you know how many writers want to see the most beautiful woman alive recite lines from their work?” She just smiled. Of course she knew his work. She had that line highlighted in her copy of the first book. That was absolutely Simon speaking through a character.. “And… wow… I wouldn’t have ever considered a rapper for FK’s theme, but Meta’s style is somehow perfect for him.”

“Well, I don’t know if I’ll have him actually rap, or if I would just have him doing more of a spoken word thing over like that fantasy music that all those epic movies loved so much, but remixed with a beat… as a matter of fact…” she thought for a moment, “My dude… if I put the R612 beat over some of that with the…” (she sang a high pitched, haunting sort of sound and made a wave gesture with her hand), “and throw Meta’s contrasting deep ass voice on there, just spitting lyrics, that would be the epitome of FK’s inner thoughts verses him always hearing the voice of the Idol Princess, even when she’s nowhere around!” 

Simon clenched his fists, “I fucking love you, Grace.” She collected him into a hug, then got up and rushed to get to creation. Having Grace actually read his work was one thing he couldn’t imagine in his late teens, but after she faced that hoard of ugly Esmoroth fans, he never thought she would ever warm up to the lore… then she read book 3 and she had been a fangirl ever since. She even went back and reread the series herself and made an audio version for Simon’s website.

He looked at Ivory, kicking their legs around on the circular mat and drooling on a toy. They looked JUST like their mother and he picked them up and played with them while she was off, doing the thing she loved doing, and doing it for Simon, specifically. He smiled. “I really love your mom, you know that?” Ivory pushed their slobbery toy right into his mouth. “Ughghgh. Disrespectful.” They laughed at him and he laughed too, taking away their weapon of mass disgust. “I’m gonna ask mommy to marry me… I don’t know when. I think… I think she’ll say yes.” Ivory was staring at his mouth. “You are a baby. You are only 3 months old. You literally have no idea what is happening. You just wanna know where is the thing that you cover in saliva and assault daddy with, probably.” He handed the toy back and set them back down, then laid next to them. “I think I’ll do it next month. I have plans…” 

Grace came rushing back into the room and said, “I know EXACTLY how I want the Idol Princess’ theme to go AND I have already gotten my close music friends excited about it, but I need to like… get you to get with them on the contract stuff.”

“Yeah, just have your assistant send me contact info for everybody that you wanna work with…” Grace let out a gleeful squeak and she rushed out of the room again. “I love when she’s happy…”

.

Grace tended to stress herself out whenever she worked really hard on something that didn’t seem to be going her way. Some of the work on this album was going to be out of pocket. She wasn’t concerned about that. She was concerned about the fact that her vision wasn’t being materialized because her demands weren’t being met. “I need to be able to use that song. The hook is perfect. I KNOW it’s a Christian song and that the Christians at large have already spoken on Esmoroth and their disapproval. Get me the use of the song, though. Because, I am SURE that my lawyers can wiggle around if I use it anyway, but I’m trying to be nice about this shit!” She hung up and Hazel bounced Ivory on her lap as Grace tried some breathing exercises. 

“The song sounds dope, but it doesn’t have to be on the soundtrack. You can put it on your fanpage.”

“No!” Grace snapped, then took a deep breath, softened her voice and said, “No, Haze. It has to be on the soundtrack. It has to be.” She hugged herself and Hazel texted Simon. She didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but Grace was not okay, obviously. She sat back down and began to mess with the dials slowing things down and mixing. Hazel played with the baby while Grace played with the song. “Serve me. Serve me with your whole heart…” “Never let me go, never let me go..” 

Simon didn’t take very long to arrive. He was scheduled to pick up the kids anyway. “You’re not coming home?” he asked. 

“Uh uh. This is not blending right. Something is off, even though I know this is a perfect mash up.” She played herself singing and heard Simon quietly tell Hazel to go into the camper and get comfortable. “Just leave me, Si. I have to work on this.” Hazel took Ivory away and Simon leaned against the table, looking down at Grace until she stopped to look back at him. 

“You’ve gotta get some rest.”

“And I will,” she said and raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge her. 

He was feeling confident tonight. He got on his knees and turned her to face him. She froze and stared at him, her heart jumped into her throat as she wondered what he was doing. Then, he just hugged her. She sighed and rested against him, enclosing her legs around him and laid her head on his shoulder. She didn’t realize that she needed that, but she had. “Okay. I’ll let it go for tonight,” she said softly. 

Only until the next day, though. She was back in the studio, bright and early, perfecting the song and whenever she stepped into the box to sing, Hazel was there to help out. “So… Miss Monroe, Miss Ma’am, Mommy… Ummm… What happened with the note, Mother, Dear?” She pointed to her throat, “Are we having a situation?

“I guess I missed it?” Grace asked, looking a little bit sad.

“You did. But, we can hit it again. You need some tea?”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows, working on aome tech as he sat in the studio with Hazel and other producers helping Grace. “ A little mean, huh?”

“I’m helping to drive her towards Graceness,” Hazel said with a shrug. 

“Well… do it nicer, please,” Simon suggested. “She’s been super sensitive lately.”

“It’s the pregnancy,” Hazel said. Simon rolled his eyes, then he paused and thought for a moment, trying to recall when the last time she had a period was. “Mmm Hmm. We were synched up beforehand. She had a baby and I was waiting to see if we’d sync up again and lo and behold, I have not seen one sign of a period anywhere.” Simon tilted his head and Hazel wondered, “Shall we take five?”

“Yes, please.”

“Take five, Moms. We’ll come back to the note.” She smiled as Grace removed her headphones and set them down. 

Simon came in and she smiled. “Here to give me a pep talk after how Hazel just absolutely demolished me?”

“No. I mean, I talked to her about it, but I was actually wondering, Haze and I were wondering… has your cycle started back up? Since Ivory was born?”

Now, Grace furrowed her eyebrows. She hadn’t thought about it. “Well… No, but I’ve also been working super hard and I also sometimes have that whole athletic amenorrhea going on. I hardly had any periods whenever I was at Julliard.”

“But, since then, you did, right?”

“I mean… yes. But, it’s also very stressful having this movie, this relocation, this new baby, this soundtrack and the score all happening, so I might just be stressed out. I’ll take a test, if that makes you feel better.”

Immediately following the  _ positive  _ test, she called the New Page center to make an appointment and wondered how she would explain that she was potentially a couple of months pregnant without having noticed anything being off at all. They were fortunately very understanding about it and made her feel like it was completely normal. She most likely got pregnant on Father’s Day and she and several of the doctors at the center made jokes about how fertile one of them was. Charlotte reminded her that they could do tests, if she needed to know (in case one of them wanted to have a procedure to reduce future pregnancies). 

She and Simon thumb wrestled to determine who was the fertile one between them, blaming each other for Grace “always getting pregnant” vs Simon “always getting her pregnant.”

Hazel reminded them, “Thumb wrestling has no bearing on whose reproductive system is more active.” Simon had his tongue out as he struggled to get Grace’s little nimble but somehow powerful thumbs down. She won and got up to twerk right in his face in the victory that HE was the reason that they kept having pregnancies. He didn’t seem to mind his ‘loss.’ “You guys are gonna be sorry whenever I write a play about this.” Simon’s 26th birthday was nearing, but he had so much of what he had always envisioned for his life happening that he didn’t really want to have any type of elaborate celebration, but Hazel had situated his photoshoot for the dedication that he intended to put up for the MonDoe website around that time. 

The three of them were all so very busy that Simon’s birthday wish was a few days to just rest with his family. They would unplug, have cake, pamper each other, have a family sleepover with cuddles, talk and maybe share some of their upcoming plans. 

Nobody wanted to rush through this pregnancy or neglect to do any of the things that had been done with Ivory (although they discovered them sooner), and were all less busy in the duration of the pregnancy), so Hazel suggested that for the trimesterly family maternity shoots, they do something like this period of rest that Simon took for them and create the shoots in home, like Grace used to create her looks and videos. Once again, with the great ideas. Between the three of them, they could make every shoot work and appear to be professional calibur. 

.

Since Grace’s birthday was around the end of the first trimester and they knew they would set aside time for it, that was when Hazel planned the first maternity shoot for. This was also a perfect time for Simon to get something off of his chest, as well. Mrs. Monroe had begrudgingly given him a ring that was a family heirloom. She took some work, but at the end of the day, she knew that this was a man that her daughter wanted to be with and if she chose to do so for the rest of her life, so be it. So, while Hazel was taking the couple shots, and had Ivory in a playpen and Samantha in a cozy carrier, Simon took both of Grace’s hands, and began to talk to her.

Hazel was actually recording, because she knew that she could always come back and select stills, but she didn’t want to miss any of this.

“10 years ago, I made a huge spectacle to ask you to be my girlfriend. There were too many people and there was too much pressure. I guess deep down I was trying to trick you. I knew that the time wasn't right but I wanted you to feel like it was, so I set it up in a way that I got what I wanted. Only it wound up being what neither of us wanted.

So tonight there's just me and you. I've already talked to Hazel. We have Ivory, we have each other. I know that we're a family but I want us to be official. I want to adopt Hazel. I want all the paperwork we can get. I want the rest of my life to be spent as yours.

I'm not sure exactly what you think I deserve, but it's only right that I tell you my intention: And I want to be able to be Mr. Grace Monroe…”

Grace was in tears. She looked over at Hazel, who was smiling, and waiting. Simon pulled out the ring that had been in her family for several generations and had its own display case in her household her entire life, in the vault. The only way Simon could have gotten this was if her parents had given it to him… which meant he would have had their blessing… both of them… She nodded her head and extended her hand. Hazel squealed and she turned the camera around, “I’m gonna have a whole family! Not like the family I’ve had for the past few years, but like a FAMILY, in every sense of the word!” She was crying, overwhelmed and breathing hard. Eventually two pairs of adult arms found her and wrapped her up tight.

She confessed how she had been feeling bout the family dynamic and her place in it, bringing up the fact that Simon didn’t even always trust her by herself with Ivory, to which he of course had to explain and remind her that it was a trauma response to having accidentally killed his sister when he was younger and in no way a reflection of his feelings for her, and certainly, she CERTAINLY was their daughter.

Ivory was still a baby. The attention that they needed was crucial to their development, but Hazel was always going to be both their little girl AND their firstborn. 

They didn’t share the video. Only stills of the maternity shoot, and because Hazel was so excited about it, the engagement ring. Once again, the fan base went wild, but this time, Hazel was chill with it and spent most of the night going through and liking supportive comments.

Fans were asking Grace how to get their trash men and exes to turn it around and simp like Simon, and she's like, "I don't know. Ask him," prompting him to get back into the swing of social media, after his long break from it for his new fun thing “Simp Like Simon.”

His first installment, Hazel is in the background, staring at him with complete judgement. "It was always gonna be like this for me" was the caption of that one.

"Ladies, do not hesitate to use your body as a weapon. If Grace isn't happy, I don't get cookies. If I want even a shot at cookies, guess what? Grace being happy all the time is my goal." 

Hazel squealed, “Ho my God!” And could be seen in the background, picking up the cat from the floor and leaving the frame. But, he continued answering questions, whether or not they seemed real.

“Grace keeps me in line by positive reinforcement, sometimes of the affectionate persuasion…” 

Grace appeared on the screen beside him, "No. No, that's inaccurate. Stop that," and he immediately stopped, "Good job," she cooed and touched his chin and of course, he merely sat there, gushing. “Will you wrap this up soon? My birthday is tomorrow.”

“I’m right behind you,” he said and unceremoniously stopped the feed. He was about to be given Birthday+Engagement bedtime, so nothing else mattered.

Well… She went to make sure that Ivory was settled in the nursery and Hazel was settled for the night, but then, they celebrated in that way that had become a merging of every sense of their being, a manifestation of every emotional charge between the two. He rested in her arms, his back against her and her arms around him with their fingers joined together. She wondered, “Do you really want to be “Mr. Grace Monroe,” or is that one of your many extreme displays to try to prove yourself to me?”

He took a deep breath and admitted, “My family name doesn’t mean much to me. My family doesn't mean much to me. Ever since we were little, whenever I think about family, I think about you. Sure, I didn’t realize whenever I met you that it would ever be this way and whatever hope that I had whenever I came back to find you over and over again was innocent at some point, then convoluted, and now it's in its purest shape, I think. With my clearest mind ever and my most open heart, I know that you let me into your family a long time ago. You shared your parents. You shared your daughter. You’ve shared yourself. I’ve been indebted to you. I  _ am  _ Mr. Grace Monroe. The Laurent kid died in the hospital.”

“Ummm… My child is named Ivory NeoVon Laurent Monroe.”

“Asterisk our child, and you insisted on putting it in there.”

“I felt like something had to buffer that NeoVon from MY last name,” she joked. 

He suddenly became serious, “Do you hate their middle name?”

“No. I think it has the potential to be a name that they hate when they’re older, but they can change it, if that’s the case. But, it’s a cute callback to Book 2. Seriously… are you sure you’re not at all concerned with being a man and taking a woman’s last name? My mother’s family migrated to England from Nigeria, and she took my dad’s name. I have my ancestors’ slave owner. I could have been Grace Adewale, and I might die mad about it. You WANT to be a Monroe?”

“Of the Monroe Square Monroes? Hell yeah.”

“Ugh. What about your French heritage?”

“Woman… My dad is from Louisiana. Have you seen how white he is? You’re going to tell me that his French ass ancestors didn’t own slaves?”

“Your dad looks like he owns slaves,  _ right now _ .”

Simon cackled and uttered, “I hate you so much for that.” 

“Same. This is even more tasteless than that time when we were laughing about my dad molesting you.”

“WHEN WE WERE WHAT?” She laughed harder now. He could barely talk through his own laughter, “Your dad molested me and we were laughing? That DIDN’T happen!”

“Noooo. You don’t remember that time when I asked if my dad was your sugar daddy and you were like, ‘I’d suck his dick for tuition,’ or whatever?” Now they both howled, and she had to pee, but couldn’t tell him as she tried catching her breath through laughter tears and pushing him off of her. “Peee!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I know I have never said that before in my life. I’d maybe give a handy, but I don’t have the gag reflex to suck a dick and your dad’s probably PACKING!” She screamed laughing and shoved him off of her to go to the bathroom. 

She was naked and partially running and laughing (which he also found funny, now) and she peed on the floor almost as soon as she got into the bathroom. She can't stop laughing and she's like there's pee on the floor he can't stop laughing and he still doesn't remember whatever the Hell she's talking about and then they got to clean up pee?

“DAMMIT, I peed!” She was in pain from laughter, but still couldn’t stop. The peeing actually made her start more.

“You PEED??? You’re only like 3 months pregnant!”

“This was both post sex AND you made me laugh and then you laid on me too… In fact, you should have to clean this up.”

“I will clean it up because I’m a good husband to be, but I’m certainly gonna be calling you piss nicknames until I get tired.”

“Noooo, Simon!”

“The Long Piss Goodnight. Piss It Better…” She laughed and turned on the shower while he grabbed some cleaner out of the cabinet. “Piss and Say Goodbye..”

.

The calm warned her to worry, but she couldn’t be bothered to do so. Because, this little secret ceremony was about to be everything in the world to her. They rented out a barn at the pumpkin patch, invited only immediate family and closest friends, then enjoyed the pumpkin patch for the first time since they were kids, this time with their own kids.

The wedding itself was small and of course, not traditional. Mrs. Monroe was absolutely scandalized that they had decided to go this route, but with Simon not having many friends (none that he would want to be a part of his wedding), Grace lent him Iza, Meta, and Tulip, and she had Shana, Chapa, and Mikayl on her side, with Damita being her Maid of Honor and Hazel being Simon’s Best Kid. 

They took photos with Samantha and Ivory, too. Mrs. Monroe would be impressed with how it turned out in photos, despite the way she felt inside of the barn. The bridesmaids helped Grace to change afterwards and instead of a reception, it was an afternoon in the pumpkin patch… the place where Simon first fell in love. They weren’t announcing it.

Hazel enjoyed the hayride and the food and drinks and she and Simon selected several pumpkins that they were going to carve masterpieces into and Simon would make all kinds of pumpkin goodies for Grace.

“Happy November the 5th” came around with nothing but that caption alone and one photo of Grace and Simon kissing at their wedding, with Hazel in a regal pose near them, Samantha in her finest suit, in the girl’s arms, and the baby in a high chair, decorated for purposes that could only be thought of as wedding like.

The family was much too preoccupied with their energy shifted to Hazel’s magazine release on the 7th to do much beyond that via the internet and social media. Hazel was in shambles, somehow. She had been conducting behind the scenes events and managing various productions since she was 10 - everything from helping Grace, to the tasks she did in the theater program at school in New York, to even being on set with Simon and being allowed to share feedback. But, this was totally different.

When she first got her own business, she was too young to comprehend what was even happening. Grace asked her basics - would she like this or that, what did she think of a certain design, testing natural products on her to see how they worked for her hair or skin type, and whatnot. This. Was. Her. Baby. Suddenly, the day of, EVERYTHING was corny. EVERYTHING was cringy! EVERYTHING was cruel and she was in a panic. 

“I’m gonna turn into a turtle on my anniversary of not turning into a turtle!” She said, getting ready to A. Cry and B. Turn into a turtle.

“This came out SO AWESOME!” She heard Lindsay cheer and she turned to see her with the clique - Lucy, Alex, Todd, and a few other kids that she knew were New Apex but hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. Lucy and Lindsay gushed over all of the work put into things and how well it all looked. 

Lucy was excited for her parents to see her own contributions, as she was given a segment that they called “That’s My Folks,” which focused on kids speaking about what their parents did for a living or what they were known for and how it affected them, as their children. The first release of that segment would cover Lucy, Lindsay, and of course Hazel. Lucy worked very hard on it and Hazel’s earlier stress smoothed over while she cheered her on. 

Lindsay was in charge of “Own Own Devices,” which focused on fun, safe, and exciting ways for children to entertain themselves and sometimes others, in various cities (New York and LA being the ones that she was most used to), and also when at home by yourself. Most of hers and Lucy’s social media for the past few months had been almost predominantly promoting their best friend’s magazine that they were excited to be a real part of. 

Hazel adjusted the glittering leaf embellishments in her head, made sure that her huge ponytail was looking great, and led her guests to their seats, in a reserved section up front with her. Mom would be on soon. Grace opened the release, clearly pregnant now, though it added to her performance to have a 5 month pregnant singer and dancer in the center of a children’s dance team that would be highlighted in the first installment. She performed the theme from The Mighty Tuba and Her Musical Friends, which Hazel had grown out of by this point, but had sentimental value, as it had always seen her through tough times in her childhood, a remixed version of Introducing Hazel Doe, and she gave opening words. 

Simon had on his Hazel Doe Monroe: The Child Celeb Blueprint, under his open blazer and a pair of jeans that she had covered in her artwork with celtic leaves. He told everyone about his first meeting with Hazel, how this magazine idea came about (his idea), and how hard she worked and was always working in every medium that she was interested in.

Mrs. Monroe had thousands of different tiered swag bags created for most of the guests. Mr. Monroe was there, too, despite usually not getting involved with the entertainment things that his daughter and her family did. Performances closed out with Grace and Hazel doing Hazel’s newest song - one that she had written and produced herself, with Grace as backup in the studio. Grace would normally do the choreography for a big performance. Whenever Hazel learned dances from her, she tended to also pick up faces from Grace, so that at certain parts, they would both stick their tongue out or make a stank face, or whatever Grace’s face did in certain parts of a dance where they were really eating it. But, whenever Hazel choreographed and Grace learned from her, there was a similar but equal reaction of Grace becoming Hazel’s hype woman and this particular number she had yelled out a lengthy “DOE!” 

It became a thing that all of the fanbase picked up on and when Grace and Hazel were both dancing, a loud chorus went through the audience of “DOE!” At all of the perfect times. 

When the performances were over, there was still music and much of it was Grace, her friends, and Hazel. There was a huge sized canvas for people to sign, like it was a guest list, and some even left artwork, well wishes and little poems of their own. “Happy No Shell Needed Day!” Grace said, admiring the room. She had changed into her own denim pantsuit, though of course, hers looked like high end fashion. She had her hair twisted back into locs and had them pulled up and wrapped up in a blue headwrap, the pantsuit (which was sort of like a romper) had a doe patch, New Apex symbol, and the hashtag #Doenizens on it.

Hazel blushed and gave her a big hug. Simon was working the room, exaggerating his hand movements to show off his wedding ring, with Ivory in a pouch he was wearing. 

Ivory’s First Co. was being worked on and Grace juggled her work on that, her next maternity blog, “Mommy’s Killing It,” new products for her health and beauty brand, along with Hazel’s, the score, the soundtrack, finding someone to handle the music video, and being a supportive mother, wife, and friend. Hazel’s magazine was a success. She became more popular and followed than her mother and father! That had not even been her goal, but she loved to see it.

Also, her mom became much more open. The magazine gave her another way to express things that wasn’t merely screaming into the void on the Internet, or worse, just telling all those people her business and letting them judge her. It also gave Hazel one of her favorite quotes to describe her parents, one that she had asked her mom to give her for a response in the inescapable event that people asked her, Hazel, why on Earth after all of that, did her mom actually MARRY Simon Laurent?

“You can’t undo some pain and you don’t just get over things that truly hurt you, sometimes. Sometimes, you revisit them numerous times and eventually, something may work… we’ve both found that we’re willing to try…”


End file.
